The Longest Journey
by Miss Mello
Summary: Marit is excited beyond words when her uncle sends her back in time, but when she realizes she's stuck that excitment quickly ends. What was she going to do? When she meets and becomes friends with none other than the Beatles things change drastically. Marit goes on a lifelong journey back to the present, realizing that's perhaps not where she wants to be.
1. Seizing the sixties

HEY THERE!

This is something I've been working on for the last couple of days. For the people reading my Harry Potter fic as well; the next chapter is coming along, so don't worry. I don't plan on abandoning the story, no matter how slow I am.

For people just enjoying this fic; it's going to be mainly about her and the friendship between her and the Beatles, but of course there will be a bit of romancing going on. It's supposed to mirror life after all.

Hope you will like it and I hope you will leave a review.. I sort of need reviews to make me believe writing fanfiction is worth the time.. XD

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It was late in the afternoon when I got off the bus by my uncle's laboratory. The bus was full of students going home after a hard day of learning. I had to push myself out, causing people to swear when I stepped on their toes. I just came from school as well, my book-bag slung over my shoulder. I slowly walked away from the bus stop, a lazy smile on my face as the sun shone on my shoulders.

It was a small walk from the stop to my uncle's work, but in this weather I didn't mind the walk. I hummed along to _I Feel Fine_, slightly swaying to the sound.

It was a late in the summer in Amsterdam, the capital city of the Netherlands, my hometown. Schools had just started a few weeks ago and although it was my first year in college, I was already swamped in homework. I was a history and art-history student. I did them both at the same time. People called me crazy and I probably was (Uncle David was the only one who said _Sure, go ahead_), but when I was trying to pick one of the two, I realized I couldn't and just picked both. I was already regretting it a bit, because there was no way I would be able finish any of the homework.

I rang the bell to my uncle's laboratory and after a few seconds it opened up. I came in and the inside was such a heavy contrast with the outside that I had to blink a few times to let my eyes adjust. Outside the sun stood low, drawing long shadows and soothing you. Inside it was all clear white light, with white walls and floors. On the end of the room was a reception, the name _Konings Corp_. spelled in silver letters on the wall behind it. The man behind the counter looked up. 'Oh, hey dear! Walk right through!' He said, buzzing the door and letting me through the door. I smiled at him, quickly pausing my iPod. The Beatles were harshly cut off. 'Thanks Alfred.' I said, pushing open the door that led to the laboratory.

Normally the laboratory was strictly personnel only and my uncle had made me promise that I would never tell anyone about it, but after that he had proudly presented it. I walked in and yelled; 'Uncle David! It's me!' I walked off the stairs, not paying attention to the gigantic room to my right, but instead looking in my bag, reaching around my jacket. 'And I've got the essay back!' I added, pulling out a crumbled piece of paper.

Now I did look up, noticing Uncle David hadn't answered me. An almost empty space stared back at me. In the corner of the far end of the room there was a glass box that was slightly bigger than a phone box. It had thick cables sticking out of it, connecting it to a generator as big as a small house, almost reaching the ceiling. A twinge of excitement started to form in my stomach. Uncle David had mentioned a special project, one he and his partner had been working on for almost a decade already, but he said he couldn't tell me anything until it was at least finished. It looked more finished than it had ever had.

'Uncle David!' I yelled again, walking to the control room build into the wall. This time I did get an answer. The door of the control room opened and his head poked out, a grin on his face. 'Marit, honey, come in!' He went back in, but left the door open, so I got my bag and went in after him. The inside of the control room was a lot more like the two doctors that occupied it. The big room had to be kept clean, but inside here it was a big whirl of half eaten sandwiches, filthy coffee mugs and crumbled up papers. Uncle David sat back down on his office chair, intently gazing at his computer screen. He had dark circles under his eyes. 'Uncle David, did you get any sleep last night?' I asked suddenly feeling worried. Beside him was Dr Janssen, his partner, who was sleeping, drooling over his keyboard.

'Sleep?' Uncle David asked. 'God no! Haven't had any in days! We actually did it Marit! Marit, honey, we did it!' I frowned at him. He looked slightly mad now and in order to distract him, I stuck out my arm, my hand still clutching the essay I brought from school. 'I got the essay back.' He looked at my hand blankly. 'What essay..?' He asked. I huffed. 'The one you proofread for me!' I answered and he rolled his eyes, taking the essay from me but instead of looking at it and see how I had done, he put it on his desk between the rest of his junk. I was about to get slightly angry with him, but he shushed me before I could say anything. 'The project is done.' He said.

I let my bag fall to the floor, taking out the earpieces of my iPod and putting the whole thing in my back pocket. 'That thing out there? That's it?' I asked and he nodded vigorously. He turned to his partner and shook his shoulder. 'Hans, buddy, Marit has come to visit.' He said and Dr Janssen shot upright, a startled look on his face, making me laugh. 'Oh, hi dear.' He said, laying his head back down. He kept his eyes open though.

'Hans and I made a breakthrough five days ago.' Uncle David said, moving his hands animatedly, gesturing to the thick glass that separated the control room from the rest of the laboratory. 'What kind of breakthrough?' I asked, sitting down on the edge of the desk. 'You never told me what you were working on.' Something clicked in his eyes and he sighed. 'And maybe it's better I won't tell you still.' He said, shaking his head in regret. I groaned. 'Aw, come on! I've never told anyone about this laboratory either, did I?' I commented, standing upright again. The two men looked tired and said nothing, but I saw sparkles of joy in their eyes.

'Sure, keep it to yourselves, I hope it will make you happy!' I said after a few seconds, crossing my arms in frustration. I looked around the dimly lit room. 'Maybe you should come outside and get some fresh air. It's wonderful weather and according to the news reports it will be one of the last nice days before rainy fall comes along.'

Uncle David waved my words away, his mind already set on papers in front of him that were scrawled full with his tiny handwriting. 'What's one sunny day? When we're finished, we can relive the hell out of this day!' He said, crossing out a few words on his paper.

'Excuse me?' I asked and he looked up, realizing what he had said. 'David!' Dr Janssen called out, slapping him across the back of his head. 'Oops?' Uncle David said uncertainly. 'Is that what you're working on? A time machine? And it's done!' I shrieked, excitement breaking through my voice. I pinched myself. That couldn't be real. Maybe I had understood it incorrectly.

Uncle David and Dr Janssen looked at each other and I saw Dr Janssen give my uncle a slight nod. 'Yes.' Uncle David said, turning back to me. 'It's a time machine.'

I wasted no time but ran out of the control room. I looked at the glass case in the far end of the room, approaching it sceptically. I tapped the glass. 'It doesn't look like a time machine.' I said. Uncle David moved to stand beside me. 'How would you know. This is the first.' He said. I shrugged. 'Fair enough, I suppose.' I chuckled.

'How do you know it works?' I asked. 'Did you..?' I asked, questioning him with my eyes. 'Did I go back in time myself?' He asked, laughing and taking a sip of mug of coffee I hadn't realized he was carrying. 'No, we sent monkeys that are trained to drag things into their cage. The machine can't handle my mass quite yet. Up to about 75 kilos, but over that can get really dangerous.'

I nodded, stroking the edge of the time machine thoughtfully. Suddenly a thought struck me. 'Send me.' I said, turning to my uncle. He blinked at me. 'What? Are you crazy?' He replied. 'No, what can a monkey do for you? Grab some sticks and sand and bring it back here? I can actually tell you about it!' I urged, yanking his sleeve. 'I'm just over sixty kilos. I'll be fine!'

Uncle David stared at me and it must be the lack of sleep but I see his head nodding as he thought about it. Dr Janssen comes out of the control room, stretching and yawning. 'What are you talking about?' he asked, putting his hands in his pocket. 'I'm going back!' I told him and he frowned. 'No you're not.' He contradicted me and I shook my head. 'You've been sending monkeys but they can tell you nothing of value. You'll have to send a human eventually anyway and why not a history student like me? I'm light as a feather and absolutely willing! _Please_ send me!'

Dr Janssen didn't seem convinced. Hans was a young man from somewhere in his early thirties, opposed to my uncle's forty years and when I was younger I used to have a slight crush on him. Although almost two decades his junior, Dr Janssen was very much the adult as opposed to my uncle. He started out as my uncle's assistant before becoming his full-fledged partner.

'Think about it Hans..' My uncle began and when he said that I knew I was in. 'We never got anything concrete from the monkeys. We've been testing with them for a week and she's right. Sticks and leafs were the most interesting they took with them.' Hans looked at me worryingly but then said; 'If you're sure about it.' He said. 'Hundred percent.' I replied.

It was silent for a few seconds and then the two men ran to the control room. I hurried after them, nerves erupting in my stomach, threatening to eat me from the inside. Uncle David was flicking switches on a metal box connected to the computer and on the other computer Dr Janssen was typing in codes and passwords.

'Where should we send her?' He asked my uncle. My uncle shrugged. 'Anywhere after the Second World War. We wouldn't want her caught in the crossfire. Besides, before the War she wouldn't be able to dress like she does.' He said and I looked down. I was wearing a pair of washed out jeans and a flowery oversized shirt. I did look quite twenty-first century.

'And- ' Uncle David continued '-make sure it's in the Western world. 1970's Vietnam is no picnic either.' Dr Janssen nodded, setting the dates and then looked at me. 'Within that perimeter, do you have any requests?' He asked me and I wanted to say something, but suddenly I couldn't think of a single thing that I would've loved to see in the past. I simply shook my head. 'No, anywhere is fine.' I said. He smiled and said 'Random place and date it is then!' and he clicked a button on the screen. He narrowed his eyes and then shrugged. 'Liverpool on the 6th of August 1960? That sounds okay?' He asked and I nodded. 'As okay as any other.' I replied.

The two doctors kept working in silence for a few minutes. 'So you can't only travel in time but also in space?' I asked. Uncle David smiled and Dr Janssen answered me; 'After you figured out how to jump time, jumping space is just a very small step. You're in Amsterdam in the one second, in Liverpool in the next. Or in the second before that if you want to.'

Uncle David stood up and jogged out the door to the time machine. I quickly grabbed my bag and ran after him. He opened a latch in the glass box and let me through. 'Just stand in the middle, try to keep your hands and arms to your sides.' He said. I nodded, climbing the box and then standing straight, my chin up.

Butterflies were flying through me and I couldn't believe this was actually happening. It felt like any moment someone could crawl out from underneath the generator and yell "IDIOT" and laugh at me for actually believing such a thing.

'Here.' Unce David said, taking a permanent marker from his pocket and giving it to me. 'Mark the exact spot you appear and make sure you are there when we transport you back.' He looked towards the control room. 'How long does she have?' He yelled and Dr Janssen replied through the speakers; 'An hour exactly.' Uncle David turned back to him. 'You have an hour. You have your phone right, for the exact time? Is it charged?' I nodded, patting my pocket and feeling my phone. 'It has charged all night. It's good for another couple of days.'

He looked at me, a small smile forming on his lips. 'Be ready to be the first time traveller in the history of mankind! Do you have any last words?' I laughed. 'Not my last, I hope!' I said. He ruffled my hair and prepared to shut the latch but then thought differently. 'Are you sure?' He asked. I nodded and said; 'I'm a history student. Most of the time I already live in the past anyway.' He hugged me quickly and then closed the little door, sealing it.

I cleared my throat and suddenly I felt a bit claustrophobic, despite the box being made of glass. 'Over the intercom Mr Janssen was talking to the sound-log, making sure that everything was recorded. After a long list of coordinates he handed the microphone to Uncle David.

'Okay, Marit, if you don't want to go through with this, say it now.' He left a pause and I said nothing. After a few seconds he went on. 'When you arrive, you first mark your arrival. Make sure it's permanent and it can't easily be moved. I gave you the marker of course.' He trailed off and I could hear the nerves and excitement in his voice when he cleared his throat. 'You have one hour exactly. Check regularly how many minutes you have left. Don't go too far, you don't want to get lost.' I closed my eyes for a second, breathing in deeply, steadying my breath. I was shaking.

'Don't interact with others. Keep out of other people's business. We are not sure how your presence in the past could affect the present. We don't want to take any risks.' Uncle David said. I heard papers being moved aside. Dr Janssen took over. 'You aren't wearing the most normal clothes for the time period, but you won't stand out too much in the sixties. Just keep moving and don't hang around in one place too much.'

It was silent in the laboratory for a minute and then Dr Janssen started counting down. I sucked in my breath and shut my eyes closed. '10, 9, 8,' Dr Janssen's voice echoed over the speakers. I suddenly had my doubts about going to the past. Maybe we should've thought about it a bit longer, taking more time to prepare. '7, 6, 5,' No, if I had insisted on waiting they would've changed their minds and I would never have a chance like this again. It was now or never. '4, 3, 2,' The generator was making a tremendous noise and the glass case I was standing in was rattling. '1..' Dr Janssen finished and a flash of light blinded me, even though I had my eyes closed.

For a second it felt like I was being squeezed through a very tight pipe and my bag was being pressed into me, but then I could breathe again and a small breeze was playing on my skin. I opened my eyes carefully and saw that I wasn't standing in my glass case anymore.

I stood in the corner of a dirty alleyway. I was about to put a foot forward when I remembered to mark my place. I took the marker out and made a close circle around my feet, making it thick and easy to see. I put the marker away and looked at the time. It was 18:46 in the evening.

I walked out of the alley, drawing a big black arrow on the wall to indicate that this was indeed the alleyway I was looking for in an hour. No need to make it hard for myself. The alleyway came out on a street that I had never seen before. Definitely not Amsterdam then, a city I knew by heart. Old fashioned cars lined the street. 'No..' I murmured, correcting myself. 'Completely modern cars.' I quickly took out my phone and snapped a picture of the street.

I put it back in my pocket and started walking down the peaceful lane. There weren't much people around and I was down my fifth minute in the sixties when I met my first past-person. It was an older gentleman with a hat and a cane and I quickly walked past him, trying not to make eye-contact. I felt his eyes follow me though, taking in my strange appearance. I now wished I had worn something less noticeable for the era today so I could've blended in. I shook my head. Not today. In another fifty years or so.

I reached the end of the street and this one ended in a busier street, with people walking around, looking at shop windows and laughing. I was relieved to see that the cars drove on the left. The time/space machine (I had never asked if they got a name for it) at least got me into the right country. Or perhaps Australia, but I was looking at it positively.

I started walking down the shopping street, here and there attracting weird looks but furthermore just being ignored by the majority of people. I saw a newspaper stand and quickly jogged towards it, taking the first newspaper in my reach.

**The Guardian (formally known as the _Manchester Guardian_)**

**6th of August 1960**

**_FIDEL CASTRO NATIONALIZES AMERICAN AND FOREIGN-OWNED PROPERTY IN THE NATION_**

It was the right date at least. It felt funny reading about something you studied in class like it was happening right now. Which it was now.

I snapped a quick picture with my phone, before putting it away. No one saw me taking it out, but I doubted that anyone would think anything about it. The owner of the newspaper stand was getting a bit sick of me though. 'Buy it or beat it, girl!' He said in a heavy accent. I wasn't really used to the accent and it took me a second to realize what he was saying. 'Oh, yes, sorry.' I said, putting the newspaper back and hurrying along.

I decided to get off the main street again and went into a narrower street, that was still pretty wide actually. The tall buildings most resembled hangars, giving me the feeling we were close to the docks. I liked the city up till now and I made a mental note to myself to visit Liverpool once I got back to the present time.

I heard music and I looked around to see where it was coming from. A couple of girls ran past me, giggling and disappeared down a stairway, apparently into a cellar. There was written, in big letters, _The Cavern_ above the door with underneath the billing, but I didn't read the billing but just went down after the girls, because this is where the lively music was coming from.

The further I got down the stairs, the louder the music became. It smelled like sweat, with a sweet fruity undertone and before me people were dancing and bobbing their heads. The music sounded familiar and I tried my best to place it, before giving up entirely and just pushed myself through the crowd, trying to get a good look on the room.

The ceiling was quite low, with arches reaching over our heads. I felt lucky to be quite tall, because when standing on my toes I could look over the other people's heads quite easily. In the end there was a stage, the band almost hitting their heads on the ceiling and the club, if you'd like to call it that, was packed with people, dancing and screaming and singing along to the music. I still couldn't place the music but it felt awfully familiar and I felt myself humming along to a tune, trying to hear the words over the screams.

The song ended just as I reached the bar. 'Thank you all for listening! We're going to take a break now but we're back in twenty minutes!' One of the band members yelled over the disappointed moans of the audience.' I ignored the people around me.

'Could I have a Coca Cola?' I asked the guy behind the bar and he nodded, getting me a glass bottle and a straw. 'That'd be 20 P, love.' He told me and I started patting my pockets, realizing that the only money I had were Euro's, which weren't even worth anything in present day England, let alone 1960's England. 'Um..' I started, not knowing what to say or how to explain.

Someone threw a few coins on the counter and I looked up to see an awfully familiar face looking back at me. 'I'll pay for her, Harry!' John Lennon said to the bartender, handing me my coke. 'What's wrong with you, not taking any money with you?' He asked, leaning down slightly.

I couldn't find the words, because suddenly everything in my mind clicked. 1960's Liverpool. The birthplace of the Beatles. Of course the music had been bloody familiar; I had been listening to the freaking Beatles on my way to Uncle David's laboratory! It felt like a really long time ago. I couldn't quite believe how stupid I was.

John Lennon was about two or three centimetres taller than I and he was broader than I thought he would be. His hair wasn't cut in the famous Beatles mop top yet, instead just forming a bit of a greasy, curly bang over his forehead and he just looked very young. He was about my age, but he was younger than I was used to seeing him. It was hard to believe how much difference about four years could make.

'You don't say much do you..?' He asked me and although his statement was far from the truth, I didn't feel like denying anything right on that moment. He pulled me along, away from the bar and he pushed me through a door into a tiny backroom. 'This is a lot quieter.' He explained when I looked around, seeing the bare walls and dim lighting. I had to agree. The almost deafening noise was now lulled down to a dull murmur and it felt like peace for your ears.

He took a sip of his beer and I copied him, sipping on the straw of my Coke, staring at him sideways. This was unbelievable.

His clothes were different as well. The Beatles I knew had the fast looking suits, but John Lennon was wearing a leather jacket and tight pants instead of the suit. I must say I wasn't opposed to the outfit at all.

He sat down at one of the sofa's lining the wall and patted the cushion next to him. I stayed standing. He frowned. 'I won't bite, you know..' he told me, but that was not what I was worrying about. I had taken out my phone, the light of the screen illuminating my face and looked at the time.

It was 19:33.

'What's that?' He said, gesturing towards my phone but I brushed him off. 'Sorry, I have to go!' I said hastily, yanking open the door and running towards the stairs, pushing over people who were in my way. 'Hey!' I heard John Lennon's voice call from behind me, but I didn't stop and was soon standing on top the stairs. I looked around and started towards the right, then changed my mind and went to the left. I was right the second time, because it came out on the main street and I passed the newspaper stand I had seen earlier, but which was now closed.

I rounded the corner, running into the quiet street. Lights were now shining from the homes, giving the street a cosy feel. While running I was slipping on the jacket I had still in my bag, since the air had chilled down quite a bit since I had entered _the Cavern_. It was now nearing dark and the streetlamps could flick on any minute.

I was laughing, because not only had I travelled in time, I had also met John Lennon, who was not only a musical legend, but also dead. And I think he tried to hit on me. I had trouble breathing, running for my life and laughing my lungs out at the same time and while trying to control it, I almost missed the alley that was my spot was in, but noticed just in time the big arrow I had drawn on the wall. I skidded to a halt and went in.

It was abnormally dark in the alley already, but I didn't slow down as I ran forwards, towards the circle I knew was in the corner of the alleyway and I jumped in between the black permanent marker lines, breathing hard. I had a big grin on my face, hair sticking to my forehead, sweat making my cheeks glimmer.

I stood there for what felt like hours, but was probably only ten seconds in total and I quickly took my phone out of my pocket, fumbling with the locks on it. I looked at the display and froze.

19:48.

My heart had stopped beating and my I felt lightheaded. I refused to believe my phone and put it back in my pocket, standing straight again, looking straight ahead and trying to keep my bottom lip from trembling.

This time it was definitely more than ten second before I looked at my phone again.

20:17.

A tear slipped from my eye and I slid down the wall behind me, hugging my knees. What more was there to do? Was I stuck? Was there any way for me to go back? I didn't know and I didn't want to find out.

After a good fifteen minutes of staring at my in Converse-clad feet, I heard a siren in the distance. A couple of youngsters ran past the alleyway and I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was sitting behind a garbage bin in a dark and murky alleyway. I had lived in the city all my life and I knew that an alleyway was never the best place to stay. I took a notebook out of my bag, scribbling down a message on one of the pages.

_Dear Uncle David and Dr Janssen,_

_I don't know if you'll get this, but I thought it was worth a try. I was late for the rendez-vous by two minutes. I hope you will try and bring me back again, but I can't wait for that here, that's why I'm leaving the note. It's getting cold and dark and I don't think this is the best part of town. I'm going to look for a place to stay for the night (don't worry, I'll be fine), but I'll be back tomorrow at the same time, at 19:46. That's, just to be completely clear about it, the 7th of August 1960._

_I already have some amazing stories to tell you and I can't wait to be back._

_Love,_

_Marit_

I tore the paper out of the notebook and folded it up, taking an old coffee can from the bin a couple of meters away. I put the note in the tin and put it in the middle of the circle. It didn't look strong enough yet for me, so I put some pebbles from the street in it to weigh it down.

I sighed, looking at it, but then turned around and went back to the main street. This would be a very long night.

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REVIEW PLEASE!

Also, she's from Amsterdam because I decided it would be the easiest to do convincingly for me. She was supposed to be from Liverpool herself at first, but as I was writing it I realized that I just was no Scouse myself and shouldn't try to pretend to be one. I'm not from Amsterdam either technically, but I spent most of my time there because most of my family lives there.. It's easier to relate to for me (:

Also, John or any of the other Beatles won't appear in the next chapter. I feel it's important to take baby steps, but I'm pretty sure they'll be there in the third.

Also, I'm sort of stealing the beginning from Crusade In Jeans, by the wonderful Thea Beckman. Of course that book takes place during the Middle Ages, but it's basically the same. Go back in time, have fun, miss their ride back. I can tell you it's a great book by the way. It's a book aimed at young teens, but it reads very well for older readers as well. Don't watch the movie though. It has nothing to do with the book.

Also she has red hair. Like a million of my characters do. It's just that I have a friend who has the brightest red hair and it's the most wonderful hair colour I have ever seen. I wish I had it, but alas.

Again; I hope you'll like it. REVIEWS PLEASE!

Oh and this: disclaimer! Nothing that's not mine is mine, so the Beatles aren't and Crusade In Jeans isn't and stuff like that. You get the drift.


	2. Waiting for news

I decided on uploading the second chapter right away as well; that way we can hurry up to what everyone's waiting for anyway (BEATLES). I don't think the next chapter will take too long, so don't worry. Harry Potter fans; that won't take too long either. I've got a couple of days off and although I also got a lot of things to do, I'll try and get the next chapter out there (FINALLY!).

WELL! READ AND _REVIEW_

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I wandered around the main street, I had gotten to know fairly well now, walking down it for the fifth time. The streetlights were on, shining down on my head as I walked underneath them as quick as I could. I didn't really know where to go. I had no money, no appropriate clothes, nothing. I took out my phone. 23:02. I sighed.

I had been walking around waiting for an answer for hours already and I hadn't gotten anywhere. I shut down my phone. It wasn't nearly the next day yet and I had absolutely no use for it here and now. I'd better save the battery instead.

I decided that the main street wasn't going to bring me any options. I had memorized it completely now and I hadn't seen anything that resembled something like a hotel. Not that I could afford a hotel anyway, seeing that I had no money.

I walked into a crossing street and this one seemed to be more lively. Lights were on in the windows and signs were staring at me from all sides. There were more people here as well. Not all of them looked like good company, but it seemed pretty decent overall.

I walked by a homeless shelter and I had just passed it like any other building, but I realized that I was homeless now. I walked back a few steps, looking the building up and down. It was a narrow building, but it was four storeys tall, which made up for it. It looked grimy and people in dirty clothes were sitting on the steps before the front door. I looked back on the street and sighed. I didn't have another place to go.

I walked in carefully, staying by the walls, just to not be noticed. It was an impossible task though, because I was clean and wearing colourful clothes. I stuck out like a sore thumb. I walked up to the reception counter in the hallway. A woman, just a few years older than me, was reading through a stack of papers, crossing out a couple of things here and there. When I stood before her, she looked up. Her eyes narrowed in confusion and she said; 'How can I help you, dear?'

I took a deep breath. 'I'm looking for shelter for the night.' I replied her and I tried my best to sound confident. The woman pushed her glasses further up her nose. 'Shelter?' She asked. I nodded. 'This is a homeless shelter. Right?' and suddenly wasn't too sure anymore. She put the stack of papers away, getting up from her chair. 'Um, yes, yes it is.' She said, stuttering a bit. 'I'm not sure if we have room left.' She said.

I bit my lip. She went over to a register and went through it. She shook her head. 'No, we're full, I'm sorry love.' She said, eyeing me with a faint trace of pity in her eyes. I shrugged. 'Doesn't matter.' I said, hoisting my bag a bit further up my shoulder. 'I'll find something else.' I said, putting my hands in my pockets. 'Go home, girl. There's a warm bed for you there.' She smiled at me, but I didn't smile back. 'Yeah, no, I didn't run away, if that's what you think.' I replied.

I turned to walk away, but the woman called me back. 'Wait, maybe I can find you just a little spot to crash down on.' She said, looking over the register. I smiled. 'That'd be great, thanks!' I said, leaning on the counter again. At least I'd have a place to sleep at.

She led me back towards a back room, where there were a bunch of desks with typewriters on them and an uncomfortable looking couch against the back wall. 'It's not according to the rules, so don't tell anyone, but you can sleep on the sofa.' She said, pointing at the couch. I nodded, putting my bag down and sitting on the hard-as-a-plank cushions. 'I really appreciate this.' I said and the woman smiled.

'My name is Darlene.' She said and she stuck out her hand. I shook it. 'I am Marit.' I introduced myself. She walked back to the door. 'Well, make yourself comfortable. I'll wake you before my shift is over in the morning.' She said, flicking off the light. I was left in the dark and I laid down, staring at the ceiling.

The springs were poking in my back and the cushions smelled niffy and a bit off. Here I was then. Why did I even volunteer to go back in time? And with so little preparations. The two scientists must have been really tired to even consider sending me back. And I must've been crazy. I was a history student! How could I not think about this at all?

I flattened out my t-shirt. My clothes. Before I went I thought it wouldn't be so bad. They were jeans, which were coming into fashion since the fifties and a t-shirt and how weird were t-shirts, right? The more time I spent here, I realized that my clothes stuck out like a sore thumb. My jeans were nothing like the jeans they wore in the sixties and an oversized shirt like mine was hardly normal either. My sneakers didn't help out at all either and my red hair stuck out, wherever I went, never mind my clothes.

And then I couldn't stop myself from a small smile creeping on my face. I had met John Lennon and he had tried something on me. If that wasn't an ego-boost, I didn't what was.

I sighed, rolling over and hurting my back in the progress. I couldn't worry myself now. I needed to sleep, so I would be able to focus the next day.

It was still fairly dark when Darlene woke me up. I hadn't gotten much sleep. Concerns about going back home were plaguing me, but after a while it became physically impossible to keep my eyes open and sleep just washed over me.

'My shift is almost over. You better get out of here before the boss gets in.' Darlene said and I nodded sleepily, picking up my bag and walking out after her. 'Did you sleep well?' She asked and I stretched, yawning. 'As well as I could.' I answered and she laughed softly.

She opened up the door for me and I stepped out into the frisky morning air, light fog clinging to my skin. 'Thanks Darlene, it was really nice of you to let me sleep there.' I said, turning towards the woman. She patted my shoulder. 'It's alright. Come by whenever you need to; I work every night shift, starting at eight.' She said and I nodded.

'I'll remember.' I said and I skipped down the stairs, my muscles protesting against the movement. I heard her lock the door behind me and I walked down the street, back to the main street, sitting down on a bench by the corner. What now? It couldn't be much later than eight in the morning. I didn't have anything to eat, but I didn't mind that much. If everything went to plan, I could eat in the future. Quite literally.

I sat there for a few hours, just looking around. Even though it was so early, the streets were already buzzing with life. People were going to work, or already at work, peddlers starting up market on the sides of the street.

I got up when the peddlers started talking to each other, pointing in my direction. I didn't want to cause anything to happen and having a girl in strange clothes sit on the same bench for hours was indeed a bit suspicious.

I decided that, since I had nowhere to go anyway and my hunger for history was dampened quite a bit by my nerves, I would go back to the alleyway. It was a ten minute walk from the bench I was sitting on and as I walked down the street at which my little alley started, I leaned against the wall for support, nerves suddenly overtaking me. I slid down the wall, putting my hands in my hair. What was I going to do if this all didn't work?

I looked down the street, seeing the black arrow I had drawn on the wall, pointing me towards the alley. It wasn't like that time, when I went waitressing in Paris in the holidays and my wallet got stolen. When your wallet gets stolen you can still get home. In the absolute worst case scenario you could even walk if you had to, but there was a way. Now there was no other way than by time-machine. What if it all didn't work out?

I shook my head, quickly getting to my feet and brushing off my pants. It would work out. Why wouldn't it work out? It worked yesterday and it should work now.

I walked into the alleyway and my eyes had to get used to the difference in lighting. Heavy shadows cloaked the corners of the far end of the alleyway and I carefully treaded in. I looked into my corner and saw that my can was gone. The can I had put my letter in; it was gone.

In its place was an aluminium Pokémon lunchbox. That was certainly not from the 1960's. I grabbed it in a hurry and opened it up. I frowned at the contends. In it was a pack of money, pounds as it turned out to be, a map of 1960's Liverpool, yellowed with age, some kind of identification paper, with my picture on it (a fake-passport perhaps?) and last a letter.

I sat on top of a trashcan, setting the lunchbox on my lap and I unfolded the letter. My fingers fumbled clumsily, but I managed to get it out right in the end.

_Dear Marit,_

_We got your letter and we hope you got ours. If you read this, you very probably did._

_I'm sorry, so sorry. I can't even begin to describe how sorry I am, but Hans' and my calculations were wrong. We could send back a maximum mass of about 75 kilos. However, we can't get it back. We can take a couple of kilos, ten if we push it, back to the present. Your future now._

_As soon as we realized this we started to redo our calculations and we have tried for years. We are sending you this message from the year 2028. We have been looking for a way for years, although it hasn't been more than a couple of hours for you, we imagine, and we haven't found it yet._

_We wanted to update you, because it's not fair you're stuck there now and it would be even less fair for us to keep you in the dark of what is happening._

_We are going to keep trying to find a way to get you back, but we wanted to prepare you for the possibility that you perhaps wouldn't be able to get back. At the scheduled time of 19:46, 7th of August 1960 you will know whether we found a way. If we haven't found a way we will let you know as well._

_Marit, dear, I want you to know, whether I'll see you again or not, I love you incredibly much and I know that you will do great things, no matter the circumstances. Please, understand that I have done everything I can and have not given up in the least._

_You will hear from us._

_Lots of love,_

_Your Uncle David_

Tears were streaming down my face and I pressed the letter against my chest, crinkling the paper. I couldn't be stuck here. I just couldn't. Why did I want to go here in the first place? I quickly stood up from the garbage bin, pacing around the alley. I kicked an old bike, that had no wheels and no chain anymore.

I closed my eyes for a second and swallowed. I wasn't going to cry anymore. I wasn't going to shatter and crumble. I was going to be strong. I wasn't lost yet. This evening would be my last chance. I walked back to the trash can, on which the lunch box was still placed.

I opened it again, looking at the money. It was about 1500 pounds, all in 20 pound notes, which wouldn't get you far in modern day England, but probably a lot further in 1960's England. The passport was the thing that interested me most though. It was fake, obviously and it dated to be last replaced in 1958. The picture was a picture of me with my hair up, that was taken on holiday in France, but it was turned into a corny sepia colour. My name was different. Instead of Marit van Breukelen, it said Marit de Ruyter. After a few more seconds of staring at it, I put it back into the lunchbox.

The map of Liverpool was actually quite handy. It felt frail in my hands and the edges of the paper were crumbling, but it was up to date and didn't involve any of the new housing developments they had in my own time.

I looked up where I was and realized I was indeed near the docks, like I had suspected the night before. Normally I would've gone and looked, but not today. I wanted to stay close by. I wasn't going to miss the ride again. I stayed seated on the bin for a few more minutes, but then I got up and walked back onto the big street.

I still had about 10 hours before I would, hopefully, be zapped back to the future. My stomach was making weird leaps and I couldn't really concentrate on anything else than walking a straight line. I didn't feel right, but I felt like I wouldn't make it through the day if I would focus on getting back home. Now I couldn't do anything about it anyway, so I had to just soldier on for a bit more and not worry about it.

That proved impossible and when I ran into a man because I wasn't paying attention, I quickly duck into a store, escaping his heavy swearing. It was a clothing boutique, which suited me fine. That way I could sit down without looking overly suspicious. But I was really distracted and confused and a few minutes turned into a full hour without me noticing.

'Miss?' Someone asked and at first I didn't look up. 'Miss?' The person asked again and I shook my head and looked up, blinking a few times. 'Mmh?' I asked, looking up to a twenty-something girl, that looked down on me concerned. 'Are you okay?' She asked.

'Oh.. Yeah, of course, sorry!' I said, quickly standing up from the poof. 'Just looking for some clothes.' I said, referring to the clothes around us. The girl looked at the clothes I was wearing, a frown on her face. 'I could help you look.' She suggested. She probably thought I had horrible taste, judging by the look on her face.

'Oh, sure, that sounds good I suppose.' I said. The salesperson was wearing what I considered typical sixties wear. High hair, fairly short skirt (considering the time period) and high socks. Apparently there were rules for it though, because it took another two hours before I left the shop dressed in something I considered exactly the same as hers, but what she assured me was a 'super gear and unique look'. I didn't even know what 'gear' meant.

The funny thing was that I turned more heads wearing this than wearing my future-outfit. A group of youngsters crossed my path and made a show of looking me up and down, while I tried to walk as fast as possible without running. One of them whistled and I shot him a foul glare.

I snuck out my phone and saw that there were still three more hours left before they had scheduled for me to get back. I decided to get to the alley already anyway. I didn't think I could distract myself anymore anyway.

I got to the alleyway, sliding down the wall next to the trash bin. I leaned back my head, looking up to the grey sky. It would rain soon. I just hoped I'd be home before that would happen. Because I would get home. I had to. I wouldn't be stuck here.

I almost fell asleep. I was suddenly so exhausted, but my thoughts kept me up and when 19:40 rolled around, I stood up and moved to the circle I had drawn the night before. It felt like so much longer than just 24 hours already. I stood up straight, pressing my backpack to my stomach. It was a lot bigger than it was before, with not only the lunchbox stuffed into it, but also my old clothes and several new ones.

I stood still and tried counting, but I lost count too many times to make it very reliable. And suddenly it was 19:46. My heart stopped beating and I waited for something to happen. And something did happen, but it wasn't what I expected it to be. Lightning struck and struck something on the street. My head whipped around towards the gigantic source of light and sound. I couldn't see what it had hit, but I could see that a fire had started. The rain couldn't put it out. I blinked and I looked up. It had started raining.

I looked down again and at my feet, standing perfectly in the middle of the circle. And then I got so mad and I tried to kick the line, but there wasn't ever something so useless and I cried, yelling and screaming. People were running past my alley but they didn't spare me a thought, all running towards the fire. I heard sirens nearing.

Suddenly another lunchbox appeared in front of me. It was a Doctor Who lunchbox, with a lame 3D feature on the front, but I jumped on it, ripping the top off. It was clear what it was and I broke down crying even harder.

There was another letter inside and another pack of money and it's message was clear; this was it. No other help would be coming. I didn't bother reading the letter, putting the entire box in my bag as well and running from the alley. I passed the fire on my way to the main street and saw it was a car that was in flames.

It was getting dark and silhouettes of people looking onto the spectacle stood out against the orange flames licking the faintly visible stars. I ran on, not paying them attention, only thinking of getting away as far as possible, ignoring the fact that no matter how far I'd run, it would never be far enough.

Before I knew it I was in front of the homeless shelter again. I looked up and down the street and then hurried up the stairs and into the building. 'Darlene?' I called. There was no one at reception and I felt nauseous. 'Darlene!?' I cried out, choking up. The door towards the little office opened and she stuck her head out. 'Oh, hey! Marit!' She said, but then she saw the state I was in. 'Christ, what's the matter!?' She asked, but I just shook my head.

She guided me back into the office, setting me down on the couch again. 'You're lucky my boss isn't here. He left two minutes before you got here. I start at eight, but that doesn't mean my boss is gone the same second, you know!' she said jokingly. I couldn't laugh now.

She realized I wasn't in any mood for jokes and helped me by putting by backpack down next to the couch and turning off the lights. 'Just sleep. You look like you need it.' She said, closing the door behind her softly.

I thought it would be impossible to sleep, but as I closed my eyes, I realized that I was barely awake anymore anyway. My dreams were shifty and uncomfortable and when Darlene woke me up the next morning, I was drenched in cold sweat. 'My boss can be here any minute now.' Darlene said, a bit of a fright in her voice. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, picking up my bag. 'Thanks Darlene.' I said and she nodded, pushing me out the door. 'I'll see you again.' She answered me.

And as I stood there, on the pavement, the morning birds chirping in their nests and a rare sun shining down on me, I realized she was probably right. I would see her again and never had I hated the thought of seeing someone again more.

As I started walking down the street, in no particular direction, I tried to keep my mind off all the negative feelings that were clustering together at the bottom of my stomach. How do you start over, from the absolute start?

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If you don't understand anything (time travelling is confusing), just leave a review and I'll try and clear it up. I'm pretty sure everything is right; I spent a lot of time planning it out.. (:

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	3. Starting a life

And the next chapter! Yiehaah! BTW I promise you guys that the next chapter will FOR SURE have a Beatle in it. You can guess which, although it seems a bit logical which one.

PLEASE REVIEW

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I was walking aimlessly. It was not yet ten in the morning when I found myself in the harbour. It was busy with life as ships were being loaded and unloaded and I sat down on a crate, watching over the water. The water reminded me of Amsterdam, a city that was of course pretty much made out of water. I tried to just think objectively and calmly. I would be getting nowhere by panicking.

I took the Doctor Who lunchbox out of my backpack and with a humourless chuckle I realized that even the 50 year old Doctor Who tv show didn't exist yet right now. I took the lid off and looked at the inside again. I took out the pack of money first. It were, like before, 20 pound notes that all together made up about 2000 pounds. I wasn't completely sure of the money's worth in the 1960's, but I was aware of the fact that you could buy an incredibly nice car for it. I put it back in the lunchbox and took out the letter. I stared at the closed envelope. I sighed and put it back in the box. It would do me no good, reading it now. I would only become emotional and there would be no way of thinking straight after that.

I stood up from the crate when two beardy sailors came to retrieve it. They winked at me and mumbled something in their Scouse and I quickly walked away.

What was I going to do now? I had 19 years of life behind me and nothing to show for it. Not my family, not my friends, not even a measly school diploma or swimming certificate. It felt empty and discouraging and I had never been more tempted to just give up.

I kicked a stone and looked up and my eyes widened. I stood in front of a beautiful neoclassical building. Young adults were lounging on the pavement in front of the grand double front doors. I looked up and down and shrugged. I walked through the modest gate and looked at the golden plaque next to the doors.

_Liverpool College of Arts_

I smiled. Even stuck in the past I managed to find the nearest arts school. I hoisted up my bag further up my shoulder and started walking out the gate again, but then a thought struck me. I turned back to the building, squinting my eyes as I looked up to it.

I was just thinking about what I could possibly do with my life and then I just happened to walk by an arts college? I never was much of a believer for signs, but I didn't used to think time machines were real either. I took a deep breath and walked into the building.

Inside I almost immediately walked into the reception. I leaned on the counter and the elderly receptionist looked up smiling. 'Hello dear, what can I do for you?' She asked, a friendly smile on her face. I tried to smile as well, but I felt my nerves coming up. 'I'd like to enrol as a student.' I said, determined. Her smile faltered slightly and I saw her eye my clothing. Had the girl at the clothing shop perhaps not sold me anything decent? I wouldn't know. I didn't know much about fashion in my own time and I wasn't much better with 60's fashion. My only judgement was that it all looked 'fairly sixties to me'.

'Are you sure? Are you aware that this is the Liverpool College of Arts?' She asked me and I raised my eyebrows at her. 'Yes, that's why I want to be a student here.' I replied her and she smiled sheepishly. 'Well, fine, I'll get you a form and I'll see if I can set up an interview for you with the principal.' She said and I nodded at her appreciatively.

She gave me a paper to fill out and she went to phone the principal. I sat down at a chair across the hallway and took out a pen.

Name; Marit van Breukelen.. Oh no, it was de Ruyter now, wasn't it? I quickly scratched it out and put down my new name. Date of birth; oh God, I had to count now, never one of my strong suits. Why do you think I studied history and art history and now art? Then I remembered that a passport does not only contain a name, but also a birthdate. I quickly took it out and saw Uncle David had put down the 11th of October 1941. I quickly filled it in.

It was a fairly basic form, but everything seemed ten times as hard as it should be because I had to fit it into a complete new time period. Birthplace; Amsterdam, but what kind of questions would they ask about that? Why was I even here? And former studies; history and art history, but could I get away with just saying it was at the University of Amsterdam. I could hardly prove it and if they'd choose to check up on it I'd be screwed.

I filled everything in as well as I could and went to hand it back to the woman at reception, but she pointed at the stairs. 'Mr Lovegood has a bit of free time right now and has agreed to receive you right now.' She said. 'Mr Lovegood? That's his name?' I asked, pleasantly surprised. She nodded. 'Yes, up the stairs to the right, the door at the end.' She replied.

I took the form and my passport with me upstairs, smiling at his name. Of course Harry Potter hadn't been written yet, but the association was enough.

I walked up the stairs and passed a couple of students who looked me up and down. The girl must've been a massive whore and now she made me dress just like her. I nudged at the skirt a bit. I hope the principal wouldn't judge me on it.

I walked down the hall and saw that at the end there was indeed a door with a little plate.

_P. O. Lovegood_

I knocked on the door and someone at the other side called for me to come in. I opened up the door, walking in hesitantly. I closed the door behind me and looked around the office. It was my kind of office, almost directly plucked from the late 1890's or early 1900's. The radio was new and the typewriter at his desk wasn't anything you found back in either Victorian or Edwardian England, but the wooden panel wall was enough to make me feel at home. At the desk there sat a man that looked like he was drowning in work.

His hair was sticking up from his slicked back cut, he was buried with his nose in a thick book and both his left and right hand were noting things down on papers alongside the books. 'You can sit down.' He said, his left hand leaving it's job for just a second to gesture to a chair across from the desk, before resuming its work.

I quickly sat down, putting my bag beside me. He went on with what he did for a few minutes and for the silence began to grow more and more uncomfortable, but then he closed the book and took off his glasses. He looked up and he got a slight frown on his face when he took in my appearance. I was honestly going to kill that girl that sold me these clothes.

Mr Lovegood shook his head and hold out his hand for the form. I handed it to him and he looked it over. 'You come from Amsterdam?' He asked and I just could see in his eyes that he was thinking that the clothes seemed more logical now. I hated stereotypes. I nodded. 'I need you to know that our students are required to have fluent control of the English language.' He said.

'As you can read on the form, I took part in an advanced English programme that the University of Cambridge organized at secondary schools in the Netherlands.' I said, leaning over to point it out on the form. 'I got a grade A final result.' I did my best to let as little of my Dutch me shine through while I was speaking.

'Oh, yes, I see. Very good.' Mr Lovegood said, nodding along and scratching his head. He put the form down and looked at me. 'So what are you doing in Liverpool then?' He asked me and I bit my lip. What was I supposed to say?

'I wanted to live abroad, for worldly experience.' I said unsure. The principal nodded for me to go on. 'And besides Dutch, I speak English the best, so I came here to England.' I shifted a bit, trying to think fast. 'And I heard the Liverpool College of Art was one the best in the country and I..-' Mr Lovegood interrupted me by holding up his hand.

'Miss de Ruyter..' he said, pronouncing the name utterly wrong. 'I have students here every day, lying to me about all kinds of things, but to get us a good start, I'd rather not have you lie to me right away. Why do you really want to be a student here?'

I looked at Mr Lovegood with wide eyes. I could obviously not tell him the truth. But perhaps parts of the truth?

'I came her on accident. I took a random boat and ended up in Liverpool and then I realized that I didn't have the money to get back.' I sort of confessed. He laughed and I wanted to laugh with him, but the thought of forever being stuck didn't seem that funny to me.

'And why this school?' He asked and I shrugged. 'I liked the building, have always been interested in arts and figured I had to do something with my time.' I told him and he seemed pleased with that thought. He stood up and I stood up as well, picking up my bag. 'I had my doubts as first, but you seem like just the sort of student this school could use more of.' He said.

He shook my hand and took out a paper from a drawer in his desk. 'Just come in tomorrow and I'll get you settled. We'll take care of the details later in the week. School has already started and it's important that you don't miss any more classes.' He said, sitting down. He started copying the form I filled in earlier. 'I'll start your file immediately.' He said.

I stood waiting for a few seconds, but then I realized he was done with me. Before I closed the door behind me Mr Lovegood stopped me. 'Be here 8:30 in the morning.' I nodded. 'Yes sir.' I answered and I went to close the door again. 'Oh and miss de Ruyter?' I opened up the door a bit more. 'Try and wear something more appropriate tomorrow, will you?' he asked and I blushed. 'Yes sir.' I said again and I quickly closed the door.

On my way down I started contemplating my decision. I hoped it was a good one. I shrugged. I walked out of the building and started walking back towards, where I hoped was the city centre. The first thing on my list was getting a bit more decent clothing.

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In the next chapter it's going to REALLY start!

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	4. Skipping school

The next chapter... WITH A BEATLE! Or three actually, technically... -.-

I'm expecting some reviews for this, so please not only read, but also review.. That would mean a lot. Thank you. EJOY!

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I knocked on Mr Lovegood's door. I tucked in my new shirt nervously. This time I made sure that what I bought was appropriate. It was just an ordinary wool skirt, reaching my knees, a white shirt and white socks to match. I still wore my sneakers though. I couldn't find a shoe store.

I had gone back to the homeless shelter the night before. Darlene was now pretty used to the sight of me, but she did look a bit put off when I walked in with yet another brand new outfit. She didn't ask questions though, which I was thankful for.

She actually stayed with me for a bit and we laughed a bit. Only when there was a ruckus somewhere upstairs she left, bidding me goodnight, before breaking up the fight that had broken out. She had woken me again in the morning, like she had the days before as well. Maybe it was a good thing; I never was a morning person and I was afraid of oversleeping my appointment with the principal and perhaps messing it up for myself.

Mr Lovegood opened up the door for me, beckoning me in. I walked in, hoisting up my bag a bit higher on my shoulder. Mr Lovegood seemed to be looking for something, but after a minute of rustling through his drawers he gave up and sat down, looking at me.

'Before I can send you to your first class, we'll have to go over your personal details. First of all, your address?' He asked and I swallowed. He looked at me expectantly, his pen ready and I shrugged. 'I don't really know how the street is called.' I said, avoiding his gaze.

'Do you have a map? Can you show me?' He asked, scratching his head and I nodded. I took out the map Uncle David had sent me and started to retrace my steps from the Art College to the homeless shelter. Of course I wouldn't tell him it was a homeless shelter.

'Here it is!' I said, pointing it out on the map. He narrowed his eyes and copied the street down on his paper. 'Could you find out which number it is and tell Miss Terry downstairs tomorrow? The lady at the reception?' He asked and I nodded. 'Yes, of course.' I said.

'And do you have a telephone at home?' Mr Lovegood asked next and for a moment I was about to recite my own mobile phone number, stopping myself just in time. I shook my head. 'No, sir.' I said instead. He crossed it out on the short list.

'Well, thank God you're eighteen, otherwise we would have to get your parents' permission as well and no parent wants their child at arts school.' Mr Lovegood joked, crossing another thing out. 'I'm nineteen.' I said, correcting him. He frowned at me. 'Nineteen?' He asked and I nodded. 'I was born in 1941.' I said and his frown deepens. 'Your passport says your birthday is October 11th.' He said and I nodded. 'Yeah, that's right, so that would make me..' I stop, realizing he was right.

Uncle David hadn't thought it through really well. In the future I was about to turn twenty in a few months, not to turn nineteen. I was supposed to be born in 1940. No wonder that timemachine didn't work out.

'Oh, yes sorry, a bit of a language mix-up!' I said, blaming it on my English. He narrowed his eyes at me for a second, but I just smiled and he seemed to decide that I told the truth. He handed me a schedule and I looked it over. It looked reasonable.

'Just introduce yourself to the teacher and try and participate as well as you can.' He said to me and I nodded, taking a deep breath. It seemed like something I did a lot lately. Nodding I mean. I was pretty fluent at English, but after talking English for the entire day and all the stress and emotions, you just get tired of speaking any other language than your own.

'I will. Thank you very much.' I said and he stood up and opened the door, pointing down the hall. 'Just go the end and then to the right. Just follow that hallway and the last but one is your lecture hall.' He said and I smiled. 'Thank you.' I said again and I went on my way.

It was a bit harder to find than he made it out to be, but I found it eventually. It was a wooden door and I knocked it before walking in. It was a large room and about fifty students stared at me as I awkwardly walked up to the teacher, an old woman with a purple dress.

'I'm Marit de Ruyter. I'm a new student.' I said in a half-whisper. For a moment the teacher looked at me oddly, but then understanding was read on her face and she clapped her hands. 'Oh, yes! Quite right! Mr Lovegood informed me! You can take a seat.' She said, gesturing towards the countless rows of students that were watching me with hostile looks in their eyes. I went to sit in the back, taking out my notebook and pencil.

Most of the day it went like that. People would stare at me discretely but would say nothing to me and I made no move to talk to them. They were from the past and I was from the future. I wouldn't want to disrupt anything.

This ritual remained until right after lunch. The class had just started when a boy walked in. I didn't look up, doodling in my notebook, but the teacher sounded annoyed and said; 'This is the fourth time this week! Come on time, or don't bother coming at all!'

From the corner of my eyes I could see the boy sitting down, propping up his feet and pulling his hat over his face. He sat close to my spot, near the back of the class, while most sat near the front, closest to the teacher. It was an irritating man, that talked about art as if it was a pretentious way of distinguishing yourself from everyone else, rather than a way of expressing yourself. I smiled to myself when I thought of the 21st century term for him; _hipster_.

'And in these times the artist can finally freely express himself!' The teacher said dramatically, opening his arms to the students, as if to beckon them in. I rolled my eyes. 'Come with me on this journey and I'll show you the innards of art in the modern world!' The professor said and I did a poor, whispery imitation of him, doodling flowers in my notebook, annoyed by his melodramatics. The boy that came late heard me and laughed and I looked up in wonder.

He had pulled his hat off and I gasped in surprise at the odds. 'Hey, you're the girl who just left me at the Cavern the other day!' He said, recognition in his eyes.

'Keep your mouth shut, Mr Lennon!' The professor said and John Lennon rolled his eyes. He moved a couple of seats towards me, now sitting directly in front of me, and he leaned on my desk. 'Now, what did you do that for?' He asked, his voice a bit lower in volume.

I couldn't believe I had met John Lennon for the second time on accident. 'You go to art school?' I asked in surprise. He shrugged. 'Sometimes.' He replied. He looked back to the front for a second but then turned back to me. 'But I come often enough to know you weren't here before.' He said. I nodded. 'I'm new.' I stated lamely.

'Are you following me?' he asked, his eyes twinkling. 'Of course not.' I snorted. He put his hand on his heart. 'There is no "of course" about it! Why wouldn't you want to stalk me?' he said. I chuckled, but said nothing, knowing that we were coming very close to a time period in which every girl on the planet indeed wanted to stalk the boy in front of me.

We were both silent for a while and I felt both relieved and disappointed at that, but then he turned around again. 'Do you have a boyfriend or something? Is that why you left the other day?' He asked and I raised one eyebrow. 'Is that the only reason I wouldn't want to be alone with you in a backroom of some shady club?' I asked him and he chuckled. 'That's what they tell me. It never stopped a bird before.' He said and I frowned at him. 'Bird?' I asked and he laughed, earning another glare from the professor. 'Girl.' He clarified. 'Oh..' I said lamely.

He stuck out his hand and I shook it. 'John Lennon.' He introduced himself and I found myself nodding along. 'Yes, I know.' I said and he gave me a funny look; 'Excuse me?' I quickly shook my head and said; 'I mean; Marit. My name is Marit. Marit de Ruyter.' I had almost said van Breukelen instead of my new fake name.

We looked at each other for a second longer and I realized he was still holding my hand and I quickly yanked it loose, picking up my pencil again. He winked at me and I felt myself blush. 'Stuff it.' I murmured to him and I think he heard because he snorted.

'So.. That name doesn't sound like it's from around here..' John Lennon said. I couldn't keep calling him John Lennon could I? Just calling him Lennon would be weird too. And could you call a long gone legend by his first name? 'It isn't.' I replied him. 'I'm from Amsterdam, in the Netherlands. Born and raised.' I said and his eyes lit up. 'Oh, so you're one of _those_ girls?' he asked me, his eyebrows moving up and down suggestively. I made a slight noise of disgust and hit him in the arm, which was still leaning on my desk. 'You're more like one of _those_ girls than I am, I bet.' I said and he muffled a laugh.

'So how are you liking good old Liverpool then?' He asked, layering on his accent a bit more. I shrugged. 'It's fine.' I said, not really willing to go into that subject. Being in Liverpool was a bit of a sore subject for me. I think he sensed my unwillingness and he let it go, which I thought was really unlike him, even though I had just met him. I bit my lip. But I had seen interviews. I knew him better than I should've known him at a first meeting.

John looked at the clock. There were only a few minutes of class left. He turned back to me, leaning in a bit closer as if he was disclosing some great big secret to me. 'I'm meeting up with a couple of mates of mine after class. You want to come?' He asked and I raised my eyebrows. 'Are you inviting me?' I asked surprised. Did John Lennon just ask me along?

He frowned. 'What else did you think I was asking you?' He asked me and I made a face. 'I can't. I have another class after this.' I said and he gave me a wicked smile. 'So do I.' He said.

The bell signalled the end of class and John stood up from his chair, walking off. I watched after him and made a split second decision and I know I shouldn't have, he was John Lennon for God's sake, but I ran after him. 'I'm in.' I said and he said nothing, only gave me a wink.

He lazily lead me to the front of the school, where he hopped on the bonnet of a parked car, lighting a cigarette. I carefully sat next to him. 'What are we waiting for?' I asked him and he put his lighter away before answering. 'Stu. He goes here as well.' He said and I nodded.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before this "Stu" person came running out of the school, laughing. 'I almost got caught nicking Lovegood's watch!' He said, skidding to a halt in front of us. John laughed. 'It's about time he notices.' He said, jumping off the bonnet. I got off as well. Stu now focussed his attention on me.

'And who's this?' He asked John, eyeing me up and down. I glared at him; a clear "no chance!" signal. 'She's new at our wonderful little school. I figured we had to give her a proper welcome!' John said, walking down the street. Stu and I followed him.

Stu stuck out his hand. 'Stuart Sutcliffe, at your service.' He said with a smile. I shook his hand. 'I'm Marit de Ruyter.' I introduced myself. 'That's an unusual name around here, where do you..?' He began but before I could say anything John had already answered. 'Amsterdam! City of drugs, sex and.. Well not rock 'n roll, but it will be some day! Rock 'n roll will rule the world!' He said, doing a weird dance to accompany that statement.

I laughed. 'There's a lot more in Amsterdam than that, you know!' I said, but John waved me away. 'Don't try and top those two..' He said, suddenly crossing the street and walking up to a diner. It looked a bit dingy and dark. A sign told me it was called _Ye Cracke_.

A little bell ringed when we went in and a couple of heads looked up from what they were doing. Most of them looked back down, but two of them, who were sitting around a table in the corner grew grins and waved us over.

Stuart pulled out a chair for me next to him and I sat down. John sat on my other side. 'Fellows, Marit's new in town so be nice. Marit, these are Pete and his little brother Roag.' John said, gesturing at the two guys across from the table. The one named Roag only waved but his brother Pete stuck out his hand. 'Pete Best. I'm in John's band.' He introduced himself to me. 'Marit de Ruyter.' I replied, shaking his head.

I elbowed John softly. 'That band is the one I saw, right? A couple of nights ago, when I first met you?' I asked and John nodded, lighting another cigarette. 'Before you ran out on me.' He said. Pete laughed. 'Oh you're the one? He sulked about it for the rest of the night!' He said, taking a sip of his tea.

A server came up to our table, a bored expression on her face. 'What can I get you?' She asked, chewing her gum. 'A tea, please.' I said, smiling politely. 'Same.' Stuart said and there was a cheery 'Here here!' from John. The girl wrote it down on her notepad and shuffled back to the bar, her shoulders hung down. We watched her go and then looked at each other. We burst out in laughter. 'Wonder how _she_ is in the sack!' John said.

I swatted at his arm. 'That's vulgar.' I commented. 'So what?' John replied, ignoring me furthermore. He started to talk to Pete about band practise and Stuart asked me about my course.

'Well, I just started today and I'm already skipping, so I don't know how it will go in the future.' I said, an unsure grin on my face. He laughed. 'John and I have been there since last year, but John made me skip a lot more than I'm comfortable to admit also.' He said and I chuckled. 'So, you go there voluntary? I don't get that vibe from John.' I said.

Stuart shot John, who was still talking to Pete, a look. 'His aunt makes him go. She figures that art college is a better waste of time than the band.' He said and I looked at John as well. I looked back at Stu. 'So who's in this band of his? I saw just a tiny bit the other day, but I wasn't really paying attention.' I confessed and Stuart smiled at me.

'Well, there's John of course and Pete on the drums. I'm in the band as well, bass guitar.' He grinned proudly at me. 'And there's these two kids called Paul and George. They're a bit younger, but they're pretty good so it's okay.' He said and I barely contained my grin. Ringo wasn't in the band yet though. I wondered where he was then, if not with the Beatles.

I decided that asking about the Beatles anymore would get a bit suspicious. They weren't yet famous and even if they were, I wouldn't want to come across as some crazy fan. I changed the conversation. 'When you came out of the school you said you stole Mr Lovegood's watch..?' I asked and Stuart leaned back in his chair, laughing.

'Yeah, it's just this joke I always play on the headmaster. He's about as messy as you can be and I thought it would be funny one time to nick his watch. I handed it in with lost and found of course, but he went mad looking for it. It's his father's watch, you see. And then it turned out to be with lost and found. It was so funny that I had to try it again and the same happened again.' He said and I laughed amazed. 'Really?' I asked and he nodded, crossing his heart. 'Now it's sort of our game. He knows it's me because it's always me handing it in with lost and found, but he can't prove I stole it, if he doesn't catch me in the act.' Stuart said and I chuckled.

'I always tell him to just keep the watch.' John said from my left, tuning into our conversation. Before Stuart could react the girl from the bar came to bring our tea. 'Thanks, that looks grea..' I began to say, but the server had walked off already. John patted my back. 'Keep up, keep up, customer service doesn't exist in this country!' He said. He put his arm over the back of my chair, leaning back.

I sipped my tea. 'Sutcliffe, it's band practise tonight at Paul's.' John said over my head. 'Tonight? But I'm supposed to help my dad out tonight.' Stuart said. 'If you don't show up, you're out of the band.' John replied stubbornly. They started to bicker, but I didn't mind. I leaned back in my chair, pressing into John's arm softly.

It felt all rather surreal. It felt too real to be a dream, but too much like a dream to be real. Three days ago at the same time I was playing games on my phone, hoping for the lecturer to finish his lecture on regional religionist wars quickly. In the year 2013. And there I was now, sitting next to dead musician John Lennon, before he was even famous, skipping class and sipping tea, in the year of 1960. What the freaking hell?

I felt like I should perhaps freak out, but I don't think it dawned on me quite yet. What were the odds for everything to work out like it did? Almost zero, so it couldn't have actually happened like it did. That was the only logical answer. And yet it wasn't.

I looked to my right, where Stuart was sitting. He was a handsome young man, with dark hair and eyes. He looked a lot more like a visual artist than a musician and I bet that the only reason he was in the band was because John made him be. Pete looked a lot more like he should be in a band than Stuart. He sat confident, with his hair styled into the Elvis cut, like John's and so much other boy's I had seen. It was obvious for what look he was going; the smouldering and mysterious look and to be honest; he was pretty good at it and I could imagine a lot of girls falling for the look. His little brother didn't look like much. He looked like Pete was supposed to babysit him and decided to take him along instead of watching over him at the house. Then I looked at John.

John looked like a bad-boy. His entire persona breathed individual ideas and curiosity, mixed in with a healthy disregard for authority. I immediately approved of him. He still looked so young though. He was about as old as me here, but I was used to seeing pictures of him from 1964 and onwards. It was weird how much of a difference three or four years could make on a face.

I looked at the table, putting my teacup down. All these thoughts were making me tired and I only really wanted to go asleep and wake up at home and in my own bed, instead of at the broken couch in the homeless shelter.

'So will you come?' I shook my head, looking up from my thoughts. 'Mmmh?' I murmured. 'Will you come to our gig this Thursday? It's in the _Jacaranda Club_ at 23 Slater Street. It's owned by our manager.' Pete asked, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. I shrugged. 'Yeah, sure.' I agreed and Pete gave me a flirtatious smile, which I wasn't sure I was completely comfortable with.

John got up. 'Well, now that's settled, I better get going.' He said, putting on his leather jacket. I stood up as well. 'I'll walk with you.' I said. John didn't respond to that, only looked at Stuart, pointing at his chest. 'I'll see _you_ tonight!' He said and Stu rolled his eyes.

We walked outside and walked towards the city centre. We passed the school on our way. 'I didn't pay for my tea.' I said with a smile. John shot me a glance. 'Neither did I.' He said and I laughed. 'Now they'll have to pay for us!' I said happily. He frowned at me. 'You Dutch are exactly as cheap as they say.' He said and I elbowed him.

'So where do you live?' I asked him and he yawned, scratching his head. 'Just a block away from the college. Together with Stu.' He replied. He looked at me sideways with a smirk. 'You want to come visit?' He asked and it was innocent enough of a question, if he hadn't asked it in _that_ way. I made a face at him. 'Ew, as if.' I said childishly and he raised his eyebrows. 'What? You think you're too good for me?' He challenged, stopping in his tracks. I walked on.

'That has nothing to do with it.' I told him. 'I just don't want to jump into bed with someone I've just met.' I said. I shrieked when he pulled at my wrist, pushing me up against the wall. His entire body was pressed into mine and his face was only a couple of centimetres away from my own.

He leaned forward to whisper in my ear; 'That's what you think..'

I smacked his face and he stumbled backwards. 'Ow!' He yelled at me, looking at me like I was insane. 'What kind of two-bit whore do you think I am!?' I yelled at him. 'Don't you ever do something like that again, or I'll make sure you'll regret it!' I said, my Dutch accent seeping in heavily in my anger.

I was breathing hard, cursing him in Dutch under my breath and he was just staring at me, his hand on his cheek where I hit him. 'So..' I concluded, after a long rant in Dutch. 'Just don't, okay?' I ended rather weakly.

He held onto his cheek a second longer, but then John straightened his back and let out a laugh. 'Bloody hell, woman, you're mad!' He said and although I tried to keep glaring at him for a few moments, a grin broke onto my face as well. 'You better not forget it!' I said to him and he offered me his arm.

I took it and together we walked further into town, talking about light hearted subjects, making fun of each other and most of all poking fun at other people, innocent people who just happened to walk by.

From that moment on John Lennon and I were friends.

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REVIEW! Tell me what you think of what's happening!


	5. Going out

An extra long chapter for you, so you better review the shit out of it! If there aren't any reviews coming in it feels rather pointless to write all of this. I checked by the way and my pagecount stands at 61 Word pages! Only published 25 of them now. It's because I always write these scenes or keymoments down before I go on in the chronological order. That way I get feelings and words down the way I want them and I'm able to get the timeline straight.

REVIEW PLEASE!

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I didn't see John in class for the rest of the week. I did end up spending a lot of time with Stuart, who turned out to be a very engaging and interesting fellow, who loved painting more than anything. During a break I went over to the apartment Stu and John shared and caught John just as he was hurrying out, apparently late for an appointment he had with his aunt. 'Will I see you in class today?' I yelled after him and he yelled back, running; 'I doubt it!'

As I went into the apartment, shaking my head smiling, Stuart had just finished making tea. He told me John only went when he was sure there was no other way to spend his time and even then he'd probably find something else to do rather than go to school. 'School's just not really John's thing.' Stu said with a shrug.

I was looking forward till Thursday though, because then I would see the Beatles play. I would see John again and Pete and Stuart too of course, but most exciting of all, I'd be likely to meet George Harrison and Paul McCartney. I had never been much of a fan-girl, far too down to earth for that, but I got a bit giddy thinking about it. They _were_ one of the greatest bands of all time after all.

It was Wednesday night and I was sitting at the reception of the homeless centre with Darlene. She and I were becoming friends and although she didn't dare and ask how I got to be reliant on sleeping at the shelter, she was very nice to me.

She had been looking a bit nervous all evening and just when I was about to go sleep she got up the courage to talk to me about it. 'I'm not going to be here tomorrow night, so I'm afraid you might need to find another place to sleep.' She said and I frowned. 'Your boss gave you a day off?' I asked her, knowing her boss was a real hardhead and she nodded. 'More than one day! I told him I would be spending a long weekend with my family in Glasgow.' She confessed and I laughed. 'So, what's the truth then?' I asked her and she shrugged her shoulders.

'Just going out. My friends haven't seen me after six o'clock for months. I have to work every bloody night! And when I get home in the morning, I'm directly off to bed anyway.' She said and I smiled at her. 'That sounds reasonable. Too bad for me. I'll find a place to crash for a couple of days, don't worry.' I told her and she looked relieved. Maybe Stu would let me use his sofa. I didn't really know him that well yet, nor John to be honest, but if I would explain to him that it was just for a few days, he would be sure to understand, right?

'So, what are you planning on doing on these few nights of freedom!' I asked to change the subject. She smiled. 'Me and my friends are going to Blackpool over the weekend and tomorrow we're just going clubbing. Haven't done that in ages! It's time for a new boyfriend.' She said with a wink and I smiled. Suddenly a thought sprung in my mind.

'You should come by the _Jacaranda Club_ tomorrow! Friends of mine are performing with their band there at ten.' I said and she gave me a strange look. She didn't have a good overview of my life. I knew she was very concerned for me; she was a very sweet girl. She was very pleased to hear I went to school and that I was looking for some kind of job as if she was fearing for the worst. She didn't dare ask me about my past though. I could see she was scared it would bring up unpleasant memories. And it sort of would in a way.

'Maybe we will. I'd like to meet your friends.' She said, but she had a glint in her eyes as if she was wondering what kind of friends would let their friend sleep at a homeless shelter. 'And I'd like to meet yours!' I said, ignoring the pensive look she had on her face.

I gave her the address Pete had given me and then yawned. 'I'm off to bed.' I told her, stretching. 'See you in the morning.'

The next morning I got to school a bit early so I went to get a cup of tea at the diner we had tea at before. Stuart had told me it was a regular place of theirs, but we hadn't gone since the last time. I took out my phone, wistfully looking at the dead screen. I didn't want to waste the battery, especially because I couldn't do anything useful with it anyway. There was no one to text with or call to, there was no WiFi connection and just scrolling through my pictures would only make my day a lot harder, so I put the phone back in my bag.

I had to figure out something for my bag, because it was ridiculously big. Clothes were stuffed in there and my schoolbooks from back in the future, which I didn't know what to do with and my schoolbooks from my school here as well. My agenda and notebooks and pencils and iPod and mobile phone. They were all stuffed into a backpack. Thank God I had decided to leave my laptop at home that day, otherwise I'd be taking that with me wherever we went as well.

The thing I was worried most about were my schoolbooks from my school in the 21st century. I did history and these books were basically describing everything that happened between 10.000 A.D. to when the book was published in 2013. The fact that it was mostly in Dutch was a relief, but some of the supporting literature was in English, French and German as well.

I got up, paid for my tea and started walking to the school. It didn't feel safe leaving my bag anywhere unsupervised. There were too many valuable things going on in my bag. Stuart had made fun of the big bag, but I didn't really know a solution to the problem. I couldn't leave anything at the shelter, because Darlene's boss couldn't know I was camping in his office. Maybe I could rent a secured locker somewhere.

It was a rather uneventful day and Stuart waiting for me outside after classes was probably the most exciting thing happening. 'Hey Stu!' I called out to him. He threw away his cigarette as I went to kiss him on the cheeks. He was a bit surprised the first time I went to kiss him three times on the cheeks like we do in the Netherlands, but it was a custom he eagerly grew accustomed to.

We talked about their gig that night. 'I invited a friend of mine and she'll be bringing friends as well.' I said to him and he raised his eyebrows questioningly. I rolled my eyes. 'And I'm pretty sure they're _all_ girls.' I said and he made noise of approval.

Stuart unlocked the door to his and John's apartment, hanging up his coat. 'John!?' He yelled through the house, but there was no answer. 'Probably still in bed.' He said to me and I smiled, hanging my own coat next to Stu's. 'You want something to drink? Or eat?' He asked me, walking into the kitchen. 'I'd like a sandwich. I didn't have any lunch.' I said and he looked at me in mock shock. 'No lunch? That's unforgiveable!' He said.

He quickly jammed up a sandwich for me and then started collecting beer bottles from the countertops. I sat down at the kitchen table, leaning back. 'You should drink less.' I commented amused. He glared at me, but it turned into a smile. 'That's what Lennon and I tell ourselves, but every night we turn out to have too much fun.' He said and I petted his shoulder as he went to sit across from me.

'What the fuck is this ruckus? It's far too early for this shit..' A sleepy voice said from the kitchen entrance. We looked up to see John rubbing his eyes, wearing a bathrobe. 'It's almost three in the afternoon John.' I said and he frowned. Then he shrugged. 'No excuse.' He said, making his way to the sink and filling a pot for tea.

I remembered my living situation for the coming days, or lack of to be exact. 'Hey, guys, sorry. I know we don't know each other that well yet, but you're pretty much the people I know best in this town right now and the place I'm staying at is getting renovated over the coming couple of days. Could I crash on your couch till Monday morning?' I lied.

I saw Stu and John look at each other hesitantly and I gave them a pleading look. 'Aw, please? I'm gone before you know it! Living with you is hardly my first choice either, but I've got nowhere to go!' I said and John laughed. 'Don't flatter us.' He said, batting his eyelashes. I pouted. 'I'll cook every day and I'll clean up the entire apartment. God knows you need it.' I said, pointedly looking at the mess they called the kitchen.

John went to fill up a cup of his now done tea. 'Whatever. Stay, do what you want.' He said and I beamed. 'Thanks guys!' I said, jumping up and first giving Stuart and then John a hug. The hug I gave John turned out a bit awkward, because he was busy making his tea and I just jumped his back, slinging my arms around his neck.

'Don't choke me!' He said, laughing and I quickly released him. 'That would've been rude..' I said with a smile.

I spent the rest of the day with Stu and John, until John had to leave by dinnertime because he had to "take care of something" as he called it. I wanted to make dinner for Stuart and myself, as I had promised, but they didn't have any food, other than a loaf of bread, some jam and a couple of potatoes. I shook my head at the sheepishly laughing Stu.

'I'll do some grocery shopping tomorrow.' I said. 'I'll make you some proper food.' I took the loaf of bread, smearing a couple of jam sandwiches for the two of us.

A bit after seven-thirty Stu got up to make himself ready for his gig in a couple of hours. He looked at me funnily when I didn't get up with him. 'What?' I demanded briskly, not liking his look at all. He shrugged, obviously not sure how to say it. 'Aren't you going to change..?' He asked and I looked down on my outfit, a woollen skirt and white shirt. It did have a sense of propriety about it that wasn't perhaps suitable for a club.

'What do you suppose I should wear then?' I asked him, a bit put off. He shrugged again. 'I don't know.. Don't you have something else?' I thought back to the dresses the saleslady on my second day in Liverpool had made me buy, the ones that got the looks everywhere I had gone.

'Wait a minute, let me try this one thing.' I said and Stu went to sit down again. 'Be quick.' He said. 'I have to get ready too.' I huffed at that. 'Like you're doing anything else than slapping on a bit more grease and covering yourself in leather.' I told him under my breath, but he heard me because his laugh followed me throughout the house as I went to my bag.

I pulled out the dress that I had worn on my "interview" with the headmaster of the college, the outfit he had called "inappropriate". In 21st century terms it wasn't that bad. It was a tad short perhaps, but I wouldn't have felt uncomfortable wearing it to an interview in 2013. I looked at the doorway, checking if Stuart hadn't snuck up on me from behind and then hastily slipped out of my school clothes. I threw on the dress.

Ironing out the creases with my hands, I walked back into the kitchen. 'How is this for a dress then?' I asked, but Stu's face told me enough. He looked me up and down with his mouth slightly ajar and I spun around with a chuckle. 'So you like it then?' I asked and he nodded. 'Yeah.' He murmured. 'Very much so.'

I pulled him out of his chair and pushed him towards the door. 'Now, go get ready! We have to go soon!' I said dismissively and he lazily left the kitchen, glancing at me over his shoulder once more.

Ten minutes later we were ready to leave. John hadn't come back yet, but Stuart said it was usual for him to just show up at the club. He locked up and we started walking. It wasn't actually that far away, just a couple of streets. I looked down to my feet, noting that I really had to buy some different shoes. I was still wearing my old beaten up Converse sneakers.

I was really looking forward to the gig. It seemed like such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that it was enough for me to forget about the heavy brick in my stomach for a moment. Stress and worries were eating me away inside, but I tried just not to think about it, because there was no solution. I couldn't go home, I just couldn't. What else was there to do than to soldier on?

The club looked more like a pub than it looked like a club, but it seemed exciting as loud music and yelling people could be heard from the end of the street. 'We're a bit early.' Stuart commented and with a quick glance at my watch I realized he was right. It was twenty past nine, they weren't on for another forty minutes.

We went in and someone saw us come in and waved at us. We made our way through the crowd of people to the back and realized it was Pete. He was sitting around a table, heavy clouds of smoke hanging over the heads of him and the people sitting with him. And with a shock I realized the two others were Paul McCartney and George Harrison.

They were both so young looking. Paul had always been a bit of a baby-faced fellow and now more than ever and George was still practically a boy. I tried to act normal. I bent down to kiss Pete on the cheeks and he let me with a confused smile on his face. 'That's what those Dutch do.' Stuart explained for me from behind me. 'She kissed me as well.' He told Pete and Pete chuckled. 'Certainly something I could get used to.' He said and I swatted at his shoulder. I couldn't keep myself from looking at Paul and George from the corners of my eyes. Pete saw me looking.

'Oh yeah, these two are Paul McCartney and George Harrison.' He said, pointing them out. They both waved at me at the mention of their name. Paul smiled a wide charming smile, something that wouldn't change in the coming years, but George's smile was a bit shy and slightly awkward, like he wasn't quite sure how he got to be where he was.

Pete kicked out a chair for me. 'Come, you can sit here.' He said and I went to sit down. Stuart sat across from me, next to George.

Pete looked around the club. 'Isn't John here yet?' He asked no one in particular and George answered him; 'Obviously not.' He said and I laughed. Pete warned him with a pointed finger and a laugh. 'He left a couple of hours ago to take care of something. He'll be here soon.' Stuart said.

Paul and George went to whisper amongst themselves and I strained my ears to hear what they were saying over the loud noise of the club. Pete demanded my attention though. 'So how's art these days?' He asked me and I chuckled. 'Pretty much the same as it always is. Almost worthless but still strangely exciting.' I answered him. He laughed, taking a swig from a cola in front of him. 'And how's the band?' I asked him and he grinned. 'Pretty good. The lads are really nice.' He said. 'You're new in the band?' I asked and he nodded. 'Just a couple of weeks actually. It's for when they go to..-' He was interrupted by a girl who whispered something in his ear. I looked at it with eyebrows raised. He whispered something back and she left again, giggling. He shrugged when he saw me looking at him with a frown.

'Has anyone showed you around Liverpool yet?' He asked me, changing the subject before I could ask something and I shook my head. 'Not really. Have been looking around myself a lot. It's an exciting town!' I said to him and Pete smiled, striking up a cigarette. 'If you know where to look.' He agreed with me.

He leaned forward, leaning closer to me and exhaled the smoke of his cigarette. 'What about I show you around tomorrow?' He asked me and his voice was low. My face reddened a bit, knowing exactly the kind of thing he was after. 'I don't know Pete, I'm not sure I can..' I said, not really wanting to get into anything like that. Pete put his hand on my knee, taking another drag from his cigarette. 'Aw, come on love! We'll have fun..'

I think he was about to say more, but someone put his hands on my shoulders. 'I don't want to spoil the party, but I'm already touring her around tomorrow. The position is filled Best.' John's voice said from behind me. I looked up and saw John grin down on us. Pete's hand left my knee and he went to shake John's hand instead. 'Almost thought you weren't going to show up.' He said and John laughed. 'I always do, don't I?' John questioned Pete.

Greetings were heard from all around the table as John sat down at a chair he pulled up from another table. He crammed it into the space between me and Stu. 'So what are we gossiping about?' John asked in a silly voice. 'About you.' I told him.

We started joking with each other for the last few minutes before they had to go on. I was surprised at how funny George was. Unlike the others he didn't talk his head off every chance he got, but he came out of his shy corner every once in a while to deliver a quick-witted line that had everyone in stitches, including himself with a look of surprise on his own face like he hadn't realized it was funny before then. John was different like that; he always knew when he was being funny and he tried to be it as often as possible, whether people would act annoyed or amused didn't matter.

John looked towards the stage and signalled for his band to get up. 'We're on in a few minutes.' He said. 'Hope you'll enjoy it.' Stuart said as he passed me. John waited for everyone to go by and then went to follow. He stopped and looked back at me. 'Don't fall too hard for me.' He said to me with a cheeky grin. I only rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the cola Pete had left behind.

The boys disappeared through a stage door and I was left alone. 'Marit!' Someone called from behind and as I looked up I saw Darlene walk up to me, worming her way through the people. Two girls followed her. I got up to give her a hug. 'I'm glad you came! You're just in time, they just left to set up.' I told her, sitting down again. She and her friends sat down as well. 'Yeah, we were afraid we weren't going to make it! The bus driver suddenly took a detour to pick up a friend of his.' Darlene said and I laughed.

Darlene then introduced me to her friends. 'This is Iris Caldwell ,-' she said, pointing at a young looking girl with blond hair '-and this is Pricilla Boardman.' She pointed at a dark haired girl that waved at me. 'Call me Cilla.' She said. 'Priscilla sounds so.. Prissy.' She said with a laugh and I smiled. 'Good to meet you.' I said.

Before we could strike up any kind of conversation, someone tapped on the microphone behind us. I turned in my chair and looked at John, who was still strapping on his guitar. He looked over the crowd. 'We're the Beatles and we're here to play you all a few songs!' He yelled through the microphone and as people cheered he counted up to four and all five of them started to play. It was electrifying to see. They were not nearly as well harmonized as they would be in later years, but you could just see how good they were going to become.

Stuart was pretty shit and he looked like he knew that and Pete was obviously too busy winking at every girl in sight and he missed a beat more than once, but all in all it was great.

'Oh, I know him!' I heard Iris cry out and I followed her finger. She was pointing at George. I frowned at her. 'You know George?' I asked her and she nodded. 'Yes, he was my boyfriend!' She said and I widened my eyebrows. 'Your boyfriend? Sorry, I didn't know!' I apologized but she waved it all away. 'No, it's absolutely fine! My whole family loves him at home and he still comes around every once in a while.' She told me and I laughed. 'That's good to hear.' I said.

When the Beatles were done playing they waved to the audience, who were all cheering their heads off. I made sure to stand up and clap as hard as I could as well. Everyone except for Pete came back to the table. I saw Pete looming over a girl with a bright yellow dress and I sighed. _Boys_ – I thought tiredly.

When they all sat down, I reached over to give Stuart a pat on the shoulder. He was pretty much my closest friend right then, seeing as I spent hours with him every single day. 'You did great, Stu!' I told him and I heard John snort from my other side and Paul, who sat in between me and Stu bit his lip. I elbowed both of them.

'You're just saying that.' Stuart said with a chuckle and I shrugged. 'Yeah, I couldn't very well tell you how bad you were, could I?' I said and John burst out laughing. 'It's in my nose, in my nose!' He yelled out and I turned to see him putting down his beer and wiping the stuff off his chin. 'Jesus, John control yourself, will you?' I said with a laugh. John made a face, trying to blow the beer out of his nose.

It was a jolly night. Iris was right; she and George still got along great. When the boys got back to the table he went to sit down right beside her, a surprised smile on his face and he asked her about herself and her family. I wasn't really sure why they ever broke up. It looked like they worked together just fine.

I saw Paul ogling her too though. I bumped into him with my shoulder, pointedly looking at him. 'You could just talk to her, you know..?' I said and Paul laughed. 'She was George's girl. Some birds are just off limits.' He said and I shrugged. 'Well, than it doesn't matter she told me she thought you were cute, does it?' I asked nonchalantly. She hadn't really, but I was sure she could've said it. Paul was after all _pretty_ cute.

'She said that?' Paul asked, his voice a bit lower and leaning a bit closer. I shrugged again and sat back, taking a swig from my beer. Paul was definitely charming and he was aware of that, constantly leaning on the palm of his hand and batting his long eyelashes at you. He was in fact batting his eyelashes right then.

'Well, you know.. Girls talk.' I said vaguely and he looked over to where Iris was chatting with George and Priscilla. 'Maybe I should give it a shot.' He said hesitantly. I smiled, but then my smile froze. What if George would mind? He didn't look very hung-up on Iris and I felt like Iris wouldn't mind at all either, but what if I was wrong? I didn't know either of them well, I hadn't even had a real conversation with George yet, maybe this was the kind of thing George would hold a grudge over. The kind of thing that could drive a band apart..?

Paul was about to get up, but I took his arm and pushed him back down. 'Or maybe you shouldn't. She was George's girlfriend, right? What kind of a friend are you?' I asked him and he gave me a look like I was crazy. 'You said, just a second ago..' He sputtered and I waved him off. 'Who cares what I say? I only met you all this evening? What do I know?' I said.

He looked at me for a second longer and then sighed annoyed. 'Are all you Dutch bonkers?' He asked me and I laughed. 'Pretty much..' I said and he cracked a smile.

It was almost two when the barman kicked us out. Stuart wanted me to meet their manager, but he wasn't in, which was exactly the reason why the barman decided to close up a bit early. We roamed the streets, looking for a place where we could get something to eat or drink and eventually we found a small diner. We were the only ones in and when we came in the woman behind the counter woke with a start.

We all pressed against each other in order to all fit around the table. I sat in between John and George, Stuart right across us. He had taken a liking to Darlene, who seemed to like him as well. I noted that Paul had secured the place to Iris's left and had started to talk to her. I shot him a glare but he ignored me. I glanced sideways at George, who was sitting to her right and he didn't seem fazed by Paul's obvious flirting. But boys were pretty dim; maybe he just didn't realize.

Pete had taken the girl with the yellow dress with him, but they were in their own little world and hadn't said a word to any of us since we left the club.

It was evident that John had a glass too many because he was getting louder than he normally was and awfully touchy. He kept petting my knee under the table or slinging his arm around my shoulder and I would gently move out of his grasp every time. Something like that wouldn't be a good idea. At all. Ever.

George was the only who hadn't had a drink because the barman didn't believe he was over eighteen, which he wasn't, and the other boys had too much fun laughing at him to buy him a drink. Pete and the girl left after a while, looking rather intimate and George and I shared a look, cracking up laughing afterwards.

We talked for a while and I decided I liked him. His smiles were mostly hesitant but once they broke out they lid up the entire room.

It was close to four in the morning when we collectively got up and made way to home. George and Paul, after saying their goodbyes to us and Paul especially to Iris, went one way, trying to hitch a ride because the busses didn't go yet. Iris, Cilla and Darlene went in the direction of the docks, where Priscilla lived and I told Darlene I'd see her Monday evening. Darlene lowered her voice. 'Did you find a place to sleep?' She asked me and I gestured towards John and Stu, who were goofing off together, amusing the other girls. 'John and Stuart have a place just a couple of streets away from school. I can sleep on their couch.' I said, but Darlene didn't look less worried, eyeing the two boys in suspicion. I laughed, pushing against her shoulder. 'Oh, come on! It's not worse than in a homeless shelter, is it?' I said and she laughed at that. 'I suppose not.' She admitted.

John, Stuart and I merrily made our way back to their apartment, hanging off each other's shoulders and singing. It was a bit of a hassle getting the door open, because Stuart and John were both too drunk to find their keys. Stuart didn't seem very drunk except for his fine locomotion, but John was drunk in the most stereotypical of ways.

When we finally got in John toppled over the sofa, not seeing it in the dark and when I switched on the light he remained laying there, his arms and legs in a uncomfortable looking position. Stuart and I awkwardly looked at each other and then he hastily ran to his own room, muttering a quick good night. I heard him bump into furniture on his way over there.

I looked at John, who had his eyes closed and was lightly snoring and then went over to my bag, which I had put next to a bookcase. I inspected it, checking if everything was still there and when everything checked out I felt relieved. It was the first time I had left the bag alone since I had gotten to Liverpool and I hadn't felt good about leaving it, but I couldn't very well take that monster of a bag with me either, so I decided to trust that it was safe at John's and Stu's apartment till we got back.

I stood up again and I realized I didn't have any sleeping clothes. The last week I had just slept in the clothes I had worn, changing outfits in the morning and thank God I had enough clothes and didn't have to wash them yet (something I would certainly do at the boys' apartment in the coming days). I looked down on my dress, which didn't feel like sleeping wear and then decided to just wear my 21st century oversized shirt. It was long enough to function as a sleeping gown. In the 21st century at least. Here it probably was far from a sleeping gown, but it was almost four-thirty and I was too tired to care.

With a backwards glance to John, who was still sound asleep, I changed out of my dress and slipped on the shirt. It was black, with a colourful image of flowers that together formed a heart. It was a hideous shirt, but it was comfy and it had belonged to my dad. He didn't want it anymore, so I had taken it. I hid it at first, but he didn't care that I had stolen it at all.

I pushed all thoughts of home out of my mind quickly and decided to wake up John. I was supposed to be sleeping at the couch and I felt like I didn't really know him well enough yet to just take his bed without asking anybody.

'John?' I said softly, leaning down next to him. 'John!' I said a bit a louder, shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes sleepily and I was struck by how deceivingly innocent he looked like that. 'You should go to your bed.' I said and he groaned. 'I'm not getting up..' He dismissed me, trying to turn around, but I shoved him a bit. 'John, if you're not going to sleep there, I am. You stole my sofa.' I told him and he got up a bit, a familiar, but slightly sleepier smirk on his face. 'We could share.' He said lazily and I rolled my eyes.

He did, however, get up now, stumbling out of the living room. I followed him, making sure he got there alright. In his room he kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket. He stretched, yawning widely. He looked at me and he raised his eyebrows. 'Although I appreciate you undressing for me, you really shouldn't have.' He said and he eyed the amount of leg I was showing. I blushed. Maybe I should've worried more about the shirt. It wasn't the 21st century and I shouldn't act like it was. Instead I pretended like it wasn't a big deal.

'I haven't undressed and if I had, it wouldn't have been for you. Now, get into bed princess.' I said sternly and he laughed. 'Yes ma'am!' He said, saluting me. He let himself fall back onto his bed, but in his fall he had grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me with him.

'John!' I yelled, but he put a finger to my lips. 'Sssh.. You wouldn't want poor Stuart to wake up, would you?' He whispered to me. I tried to get up, without giving him an underwear show, but he rolled me over so he was on top of me. 'So, what kind of fun should we be having now?' He asked me and I made an annoyed noise and he looked down on me, leaning on his elbows. 'Answer A: we could play cards.' He said and I laughed despite myself.

'Answer B: we could talk about our feelings.' He made a face at that. 'Or..' he said, pushing my hair away 'Answer C..' He murmured, leaning down and kissing my neck. I lay there paralyzed for a moment, not really knowing what to do. 'John, stop it.' I said to him, gently pushing on his shoulders, but he stayed put. 'Mmmh?' he said questioningly and the slight purr against my neck made me moan a little. My face reddened in embarrassment and I was glad it was dark.

'John, get off.' I said and this time I pushed harder and he toppled over on his back. He didn't move and he made no sound so instead of getting the hell out of there, I leaned over to see what was wrong. His eyes were closed.

I laughed, realizing he had fallen asleep again and I took advantage of that to grab his blanket and getting back to my safe sofa in the living room. I nestled myself in, wrapping myself in his blanket. It was a fairly warm August weather, but I felt safer with the blanket around me. I breathed in deeply, realizing the blanket smelled like John. What a wanker.

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REVIEW PLEASE!

I hope you liked this. Next chapter: tour through Liverpool with Johnny-boy! I didn't overdo the Paul and George focus because I'd rather have her friendship with them ease in, like I'm doing with John and Stu. And I love Stuart. I read a lot about him and he seemed like such a good bloke!

REVIEW THIS SHIT!


	6. Suspended

Please review this chapter as it's pretty long and a lot is happening in it!

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It felt like I had slept only for a few minutes when Stuart shook me awake softly. 'Marit? You've got school too, right?' Second period?' He asked in a whisper and it took me a second to realize what he said. Then I groaned and sat up. 'Is it nine already?' I asked.

'Eight-thirty.' Stuart answered with a smile. 'Come on, I've got tea for the both of us.' He said, walking into the kitchen. I rubbed my eyes out and shakily got to my feet. For the umpteenth time in my life I promised myself not to ever stay up late again. Surely, the little bit of fun was not worth this.

I let myself drop down on one of the kitchen chairs and Stu handed me a steaming cup. 'Tired?' He asked me and I shot him a glare. He held up his hands. 'Sorry! Stupid question!' He apologized and I wanted to smile, but I couldn't find the energy.

'Is that what all the girls wear in Holland?' Stuart asked me and only after I frowned at him he nodded towards my oversized shirt. I looked down and groaned. 'John mentioned it too.' I said and Stuart laughed. 'I imagine he did.' He answered. I noticed that Stu's eyes were traveling down my legs and I kicked him in the shin. He gave me a sheepish grin. I suppose I had to get myself some pyjamas if I was going to stay here for the next couple of days.

I quickly finished my tea and changed into some clothes. Together Stu and I walked to the school. I was still blinking against the teary morning sun, but Stuart looked at ease with the early hour. 'What the hell is wrong with you? Why don't you look dead?' I asked him aggravated as we walked through the front doors of the school. He laughed. 'I've always been a morning person I suppose.' He answered me with a shrug.

We shared our first class, but after that we had to split up. 'I'll see you during lunch..' Stuart said, waving me off, but I shook my head. 'No, I have to do something then, but I'll see you after school. You know. As it is _your_ house and all..' I said with a laugh. He laughed as well. 'Yeah, you promised to cook, didn't you?' He said and I rolled my eyes.

During lunch I left the school and walked towards the local bank. I had asked the reception lady, Miss Terry, who had told me that it was possible to rent a box, a safe of some sort, at the bank. That way they could look after your personal belongings. I couldn't carry my stuff around all the time and it was too risky to leave it behind unguarded, so this felt like a good choice.

At the bank they were glad to help me, although they first were a bit sceptical by my age. I quickly mentioned the 3000 pounds I would be willing to put in an account with them and they couldn't put me in a private room fast enough. It was what I would call a typical sixties 'modern' room, with Scandinavian organic furniture and chrome table tops.

After about two minutes a clerk from the bank came in, smiling brightly. 'Hello, my name is Mr Johnson and I understand you want to trust some of your belongings in our care.' He said, shaking my hand. 'I'm Marit de Ruyter and yes. I have a few things I feel would be safer here than with me.' I said and he nodded. Someone brought in a metal box that could be opened with a key. 'You'll be in possession of the key and we'll determine a password so you're still the only one with access in case of your key getting stolen.' He said.

I bit my lip, nodding along and picked up my bag from underneath my chair. 'Let's begin then.' I said. I remembered that with these kind of things they would usually leave the room in the future, but I suppose they would check it with the x-ray later on, to see if you haven't got anything illegal going on. They didn't really have x-ray technology in the banks yet, I suppose. Before zipping the bag open I looked up to Mr Johnson, who was pleasantly smiling down on me. 'You can't tell others what I brought out right..?' I asked him and he shook his head passionately. 'No, of course not Miss! We are contractually bound to secrecy!' He answered and I crinkled my nose. 'Well, alright then.' I said.

I zipped open my bag and first got out all the clothes on top. I didn't think I needed to leave my 21st century clothes. I put them all on a pile next to my chair and got out the books first. It were seven books in total, of which four in Dutch. The others were in English, French and German. I looked at the English one and noticed that the title was _Abstract art in the 1980's – 1990's_ and I narrowed my eyes at Mr Johnson as he put them in the box. He didn't bat an eyelash though, apparently not reading the book titles at all.

I handed him my notebooks and agenda next. Across the front of the black agenda it said in giant letters _2013-2014_ and that got me sweating a little bit, but again Mr Johnson didn't look at it and I decided I was very pleased with this dim-witted man.

Then it was the turn of the real suspicious ones. My phone and iPod. It slightly hurt, handing them to him, as if I was really saying goodbye to sophisticated life in the future and this time he did look a bit miffed and he turned them over in wonder. He noticed my glare and quickly put them in the box. 'Two of my grandmother's art deco mirrors.' I told him, by means of an explanation. They were quite shiny after all. Never mind the earpieces.

I took off my watch as well. It was a cheap plastic one I had won from a gumball machine, but I had been wearing it since I was twelve. It felt awfully naked to take it off. It didn't look like anything they'd have before 1985 though, so it had to go.

Last were the lunchboxes. One Pokémon and the other Doctor Who and I opened them. I took out the money in a hurry and the man was ready to take the money from me when I yanked it back. 'Not the money! The boxes!' I said and he gave me a weird look. He wanted to take the boxes, but I put my hand on the Doctor Who one, opening it up again. I looked at the letter that was still inside, unopened. Part of me wanted to read it really badly, but this small other part of me felt like it would be so much easier to just pretend that there was still a way home.

I quickly closed the box and handed it to Mr Johnson. 'That's it.' I told him and he nodded, locking the metal box and handing me the key. He took out some papers from underneath the table and uncapped a pen. 'Okay, a security question is in order. We have a few standard ones, if you'd like?' He asked and I shrugged. 'Try me.' I replied.

He looked down on his list. 'What about your favourite musician?' He asked me and I laughed. Then an idea shot into my head, a silly and slightly childish one, but a good one still. 'What about my least favourite musician instead?' I asked and he nodded, immediately writing it down on the form. 'So, who is your least favourite musician?' he asked and I grinned goofily. 'Justin Bieber. That's my answer. Justin Bieber is my least favourite musician. If you could even call him that.' I said and he wrote it down. 'B-I-E-B-E-R.' I spelled it out for him.

'Never heard of the fellow.' Mr Johnson said and I smiled. 'He's very famous where I'm from.' I replied. No one would ever guess that one.

They put everything away and I then spoke to him about putting my money into an account. I put 3000 pounds of the original 3500 on the account, keeping (now just a bit less than) 500 pounds to myself. I authorized them to take money out of the account to pay for the safe. The money was worth it, if it was keeping the future safe.

After I got a fancy check book and a free pen and lots of clerks shook my hand, I had to get going again, as both my lunch break and the class after lunch had already finished. It all took a bit longer than I thought it would.

I was waiting outside of my classroom till it was over. I had run in, but the teacher was annoyed that I had come this late and had sent me out again. I looked at the clock at the end of the hall. Only about five more minutes. Suddenly a whistle echoed through the hallways. I looked to my right in confusion and saw John round the corner, hands in his pockets. His face brightened when he saw me sitting next to the door.

'Ah! There you are!' He said and I shushed him, pointing at the door. 'The professor is already mad at me. Don't make him come out here and blame me for your noise too!' I hissed at him, as he walked up to me. His grin didn't fade a bit though and he slid down the wall next to me.

'Why is he mad at you?' He asked, lighting up a cigarette. 'I was late.' I said, shrugging. John smoked his cigarette for a few more seconds and then said: 'Well, let's go then.' I gave him a questioning look. 'Let's go where?' I asked him and he put his arm over my shoulder, pulling me up with him as he got to his feet. 'The tour of Liverpool! I was going to take you out and about today, remember?' He asked and with narrowed eyes I did remember him saying something like that the night before to Pete. 'You were just joking with Pete.' I told him.

He chuckled, giving me a weird look. 'Well, I obviously wasn't.' He said and I had to give him that. 'But still, I haven't exactly agreed to this! I still have school. I already skipped half a day for you earlier this week!' I said but he dragged me along. 'And you can do it again, I believe in you.' He said and that made me laugh.

He was about to take me down the stairs when I stopped. 'No, wait, you can't just be funny and then expect me to come with you. I wasn't joking when I said I have classes. I'm taking this seriously as I'm paying for it myself. I suppose you aren't.' I said and he narrowed his eyes at me. 'I didn't ask to be just shipped off to this school.' He said to me and I rolled my eyes at him. 'No, but I did. I came here all by myself and enrolled all by myself. No one forced me to come here and no one is going to force me to leave either.' I said to him. He didn't look satisfied with that answer at all.

He walked a up a few steps again, yanking my bag from my arm. 'Hey!' I yelled. I reached out, trying to grab it, but he kept it at arm-length, holding me back with his other arm. 'Give it back, you prick!' I shrieked at him. He merely laughed. 'Not until you agree to come with me!' He yelled back in glee. I pushed at his arm and apparently it was a bit harder than he suspected because he took a stumbling step back and he swung his arms back. The bag slipped from his grasp and flew across the balustrade. It would've fallen down the three floors we were up, if it hadn't been for the gigantic chandelier that hung in the middle of the gap downstairs.

With a crash the chandelier's chord snapped and fell three floors down. Both John and me hurried to the edge of the balustrade, looking down. 'Oh shit!' I cursed. John grabbed my elbow, steering me down the stairs. 'Let's get out of here!' He hissed and I was about to protest, seeing as it was _my_ bag that was down there and they'd soon find out who's it was, but we were too late anyway. The bell rang and both teachers and students came out.

People quickly realized what had happened and fingers were already being pointed in our direction. 'Lennon!' One of the teachers yelled, recognizing our guilty faces (probably just not knowing my name – I was new after all), but John yanked me along, trying to make a quick escape. We turned around and ran straight into the chest of another teacher. 'You're coming with me!' He told us, a furious look on his face.

Ten minutes later we were both standing in Mr Lovegood's office. He was looking at us in disapproval and disappointment. 'You understand that I can't let this go unpunished.' He said and John nodded, a careless and bored look on his face, but I shook my head. 'It wasn't my fault, Mr Lovegood! I promise you! John was being an absolute twat and he threw my bag down! I can't help him being a complete and utter idiot!' I shrieked. 'Language!' Mr Lovegood snapped and I quickly shut my mouth, a bit surprised by the harsh reaction from the previously so soft-spoken headmaster.

'Mr Lennon, I'm used to you behaving like this and although I hoped you would keep it low, I can't say I'm surprised. Miss de Ruyter however; I had a good feeling about admitting you to our school. I sped up the enrolment procedure considerably in your favour, but you haven't been exactly worthy of any special attention up till now. I understand you skipped classes on your first day?' He asked me and I only looked down to my feet. I was inclined to blame John for that one as well, but I kept my mouth shut. I had the feeling Mr Lovegood wouldn't appreciate it.

Mr Lovegood sat down in his comfortable looking leather chair and put on his glasses. 'I'll have to suspend you both for a week, starting Monday. I advise you to go home early today. None of the teachers are particularly pleased with either of you now.' He said. I opened my mouth and closed it again. John didn't look very impressed as we both left the headmaster's office but I was positively boiling inside.

'So, I say we'll get something to eat first and then go to the..-' John began, as we left the school building, but I swatted at his arm. 'You ass!' I hissed at him. 'You could've told him it wasn't my fault!' I said and he raised his eyebrows. 'Wasn't it? You pushed me!' He said and I huffed. 'Excuse me? You stole my bag!' I shrieked at him.

'Well, maybe if you had just done as I told you, I wouldn't have had to steal it!' He countered and I just looked at him in complete disbelief. 'You must be kidding me..' I said and for a moment he looked back at me, completely serious, but then a grin broke free. 'Yes, of course I am! It was absolutely my fault!' He said merrily and he skipped off towards the city centre.

I looked after him in confusion and then shook my head. I hadn't forgotten, I'd get him back sometime, but for now I might as well make the most of it all.

We found a small little place that sold fish and chips and we went to sit outside to bask in the almost non-existent sunlight. 'So, what do you want to do?' I asked John, carefully taking apart the fish before I ate it. I was used to fried fish at home. If you went to the beach you could get it anywhere, but they usually sold it in smaller pieces.

'I don't know, I didn't really have a plan.' He said, shrugging and chewing on a chip. 'Figured we could walk around. Like when we walked back from _Ye Cracke_ the other day. You know, when I first made you miss class.' He said, winking at me. I refused to laugh at that, he didn't need any encouragement from me, so I ignored the comment.

'You don't have any imagination, do you?' I asked him. He frowned. 'What do you mean by that?' He asked and I shrugged. 'Well we've got basically eleven days off school, not counting today. We could go anywhere! We have the freedom of time!' I said with a grin. He started to grin as well. 'I like how you think, madam!' He said.

I started munching on a piece of fish, looking over the street. 'So where to?' I asked. 'What about Blackpool? I have been there quite a few times and it's pretty nice.' He offered but I shook my head. 'That's not an adventure! We need a place where we don't know how to get around!' I said and he frowned at me. 'Well, what do you suggest then?' He asked and I looked back at him with a glister in my eyes. 'What about London? I've been there once with my mum for a few days, but I have only seen the museums and it was practically in another time.' I said. That wasn't a lie. It was when I was fifteen. My mum wanted to have a mother-daughter week, so we went to London.

'London? That's like four hours by train..' John said. I nodded. 'So? We've got all week!' I said and he grinned and there was something wicked in his eyes, that suddenly didn't make me so sure anymore. 'Okay then.' He agreed. 'When do we leave?' He asked and I shrugged my shoulders. 'Tomorrow morning? First morning train?' I asked and he nodded. 'That sounds okay.' He said. We both got up, dumping our greasy newspapers into the bin and started walking towards the apartment and as we walked I started thinking of what the hell I was doing.

Did I really just convince John Lennon to go to London with me for the week? Did I leave my brain in Uncle David's laboratory? When we got to the apartment I was about to tell John to forget about it. I had gotten myself into something I shouldn't have even gotten near to. What was my plan in the first place? Get into as little contact with anyone as physically possible, but here I was. Living at John Lennon's apartment and taking him on trips to London. With a shock I realized he might be expecting something to happen between the two of us. What kind of girl asks someone to join her on a trip to the other side of the country anyway? After only knowing the bloke for a couple of days?

'John, wait a minute, I just want to say that..' I started and John had stopped to look at me while searching for his keys in the creases of the couch, but then Stuart came in. 'Hello there!' He said cheerily, carrying in a paper bag of groceries. 'I heard you guys got into trouble at school!' He said, fishing John's keys out of the pot of the dead plant next to their entrance and throwing them to him. John caught them.

'John got us into trouble. He threw my bag at the chandelier.' I said. John protested but I quickly interrupted him, shooting a glare in his direction. 'Shall I begin with dinner then?' I asked and Stuart nodded, handing me the paper bag. I left the boys and went into the kitchen. I snorted when I started to unpack the bag.

Stuart had bought four onions, an apple, a bag of salt and a six pack of beer. Did he really think I could magic out dinner with this? I walked back into the living room, slipping on my coat. 'I'm just going to the store for one more thing. I'll be back in a moment.' I said. The boys sat next to each other, John strumming his guitar and Stuart drawing out something on his sketchbook and neither answered me as I left.

As I walked towards the centre of town, hoping to walk by a supermarket, I did walk past a clothing store. I looked in the window and remembered having to buy pyjamas. I sighed, looking at my wrist, momentarily surprised that my watch wasn't there, but then I remembered I had left it at the bank. I then walked in the clothing shop. First I just stared at dozens of girl's night gowns and I felt slightly ill looking at them, so in the end I bought a white and blue striped boy's pyjamas. That way I could just use the pants and my own, very comfortable, oversized shirt. It's one thing to dress like I had to in the sixties outside, but I was not going to wear a bloody dress to bed.

After that I soon found a grocery store, where I bought spaghetti and tomatoes. Everybody likes spaghetti with tomato sauce right? When I got back to the apartment I quickly started on dinner. The boys hadn't moved much, but had thrown away the guitar and sketchpad, trying to wrestle each other off the sofa.

The sauce took a while to cook, so I settled back with one of my new schoolbooks, propping my feet up on the kitchen counter. After a few minutes Stuart came in, holding his head. He got a bag of pees out of the fridge and set it atop of his head, sitting on the other kitchen chair. 'We have pees?' I asked in surprise. 'Are there more surprises in that fridge?' I asked.

He laughed. 'No, only pees. And a steak. But it was already here when we first moved here, so neither of us wants to touch it.' He said. I smiled. 'So John won?' I asked him and he grimaced. 'No, he didn't! He cheated and cheaters don't win.' He said and I chuckled, flipping over a page of my book.

'Mmmh, dinner smells great.' Stuart said and he reached over to take the lid of the pan but I quickly slapped his hand away. 'It has to cook, but it won't if people keep taking the lid off.' I told him. He rolled his eyes, but sat back, leaving the pan alone.

'It's been a while since either of us had a proper meal. We sometimes go back home if we get _really_ hungry, but we mostly live off water, beer and old bread.' He said with a chuckle and I laughed, laying down my book. 'It's a good thing I came along then.' I said. 'I can teach you how to cook. That way you'll be alright when I'm gone as well.' I said and Stu looked at me sideways. 'You could stay here, you know. If you want to.' Stuart said and I frowned.

'Of course I can't.' I said. 'It's your place, not mine. Besides; the sofa is fine for a couple of days, but I'm not sleeping there full-time.' I said as a joke, although if I'd go back to the homeless shelter I'd have to sleep on the couch as well and a far less comfortable one at that.

'You don't have to sleep on the sofa. When John and I are gone, you can take the house. That way we won't lose the flat.' He said. I got up to stir the sauce. 'Gone? Why would you be gone?' I asked in confusion. 'I didn't tell you?' He asked me and I shook my head, tasting a tiny little sip of the sauce. It needed more salt.

'Well..' Stuart said, taking a look at the book I had been reading 'We are going to Hamburg next week.' He said. I almost spat out the sauce. 'Hamburg!?' I said. 'Why would you go to _Hamburg_!?' I asked. I only really knew Hamburg because of it's funny name and because the football club. Stuart looked up in surprise, laying my book down again.

'The club scene is great in Hamburg and it's a chance for the band to get bigger. Our manager set it up.' Stu said. 'So, if you want you can take the flat while we're gone. Otherwise the landlord will just rent it out to someone else and we turn out to be homeless when we get back.' Stuart said with a laugh. I laughed, a tad nervous, as well, turning off the stove. 'That's really nice of you.' I said. 'I'll think about it.'

John came into the kitchen. 'Is dinner done already? I'm hungry!' He said. I sighed dramatically, like I had to put up with way too much and then nodded. 'Only just. You can put down some plates.' I said and now it was John's turn to sigh dramatically. 'Why doesn't Stuart have to do it?' He asked me and I smirked at him, giving Stuart a wink. 'Because you hit Stu in the head really hard. You won, but there is a harsh price to pay I'm afraid.' I told John and John threw up his hands in the air while Stuart laughed. 'Oh cruel faith!' John cried out. 'Why did thy hath to make me the best!' He asked the skies and we all chuckled as I put the pots on the table and John took some plates from the cabinets.

'You could've gotten some forks and spoons as well, you know?' I said when we had all sat down and I noticed the lack of silverware. 'You could've told me, you know?' John mirrored me, leaning back in his chair smugly. I looked at him for a moment and then got up. I was hungry and didn't have the fight in me to start a discussion on this now.

It was a jolly night and we all ate so much that we felt like we were about to explode. Both John and Stuart unbuttoned their trousers in order to breath and I took my shirt out of my skirt, just to spare the few millimetres.

'That was delicious!' Stuart said, picking something from between his teeth. 'My mum was a chef.' I said, shrugging. 'Really? That's special!' Stuart said surprised. I suddenly realized that women weren't that into working these days. Maybe I should just have said she was a good cook at home. Well, it was too late now anyway.

'She _was_?' John suddenly asked. I looked at him in confusion. 'What?' I asked. 'She _was_. You said she _was_. You used the past tense. Why isn't she anymore?' He asked and I blinked at him. I didn't realize I was using past tense, but now he mentioned it, I had in fact said she _was_. It already felt like another life, a life far behind me, although it was still going to happen someday. 'I'd rather not talk about it.' I told John in a small voice, not knowing what to say. John narrowed his eyes at me a little, not giving up on the subject, but letting it rest for the moment.

'I can't wait to taste what you'll make for us tomorrow!' Stu said, trying to defuse the tension that had come up and John snickered. 'Well, don't hold your breath, because Marit and I are going to London tomorrow morning. We'll be gone for a couple of days.' John said and Stu looked at me with wide eyes. 'You are?' He asked and I felt slightly guilty for some reason when I nodded my head. 'Yeah, we're both suspended for the week, so we figured we might as well get out of town for a while.' I said, for some strange reason trying to defend the decision towards Stu.

'Why not Blackpool?' Stuart asked, turning to John. John shrugged. 'Ask the bird. She wanted an "adventure".' He said, air-quoting the word adventure. Stuart, who had looked sceptic before that, now laughed. 'Well, I hope you'll have fun, but please be aware that I feel incredibly slighted by you leaving me behind.' He said, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. 'That was what we were going for.' John said with an amused smirk.

I felt a tad irritated when I was left to wash the dishes after I had cooked, but Stuart helped me dry them up later on. He looked like he had something on his mind. 'Do you want to say something Stuart?' I asked him and he looked up from the fork he had been drying off for five minutes already. 'What?' He asked, distracted.

'You just look like you need to spill something.' I said, shrugging my shoulders and putting the plates away. 'Yeah, I was just thinking.' Stuart said, giving me the fork to put away. 'John didn't talk you into going with him, did he?' He asked and I shot him a sideways glance, putting the last pan away. We sat down across from each other.

'No, not at all. It was my idea to be honest.' I said. Stuart didn't look any more at ease with my answer than without. 'What's wrong, Stu, come on. You can tell me.' I said, leaning forward a bit. Stuart looked a bit nervous about talking to me about this.

'Well, just be careful, okay?' He said, standing up suddenly. 'What? What's that supposed to mean?' I asked him, but he shook his head. 'Just don't do anything you might regret later.' He only said. 'Stu, don't be so bloody cryptic with me.' I said sternly but Stuart only smiled a little. 'I'm going to bed, goodnight Marit.' He said, leaning down to me to give me a kiss on the cheek. The kiss he gave me was slightly too close to the mouth and I felt myself blushing a bit as he left the kitchen.

That night, when I was cuddled up under a blanket (not John's one this time, but a spare one from the linen cupboard), I thought about what was going to happen the following days. I felt stupid for making such a plan with John, but it was weird. Somehow, although I had only known him for a little while, I already felt so close to him, like he and I had been friends for years already. Normally I would've killed a person for getting me suspended, but with him I had just noted it down as _revenge for later_ and let it go, something I did with good friends, but not with practical strangers.

I thought about the night before. He had definitely tried something on me and if he hadn't been so drunk, he might've gotten somewhere as well. But if he wasn't so drunk he maybe wouldn't have tried it in the first place. I sighed, rolling onto my stomach, letting my arm out and my fingers touch the wooden floorboards.

Besides, I didn't even want anything with John to happen anyway. He was born fifty years before me, it would be weird and I wouldn't want to interfere with timelines. I ignored the little twinge in my stomach that told me I already was, sleeping on his couch and all.

He _was_ handsome though and he was funny and smart, although he didn't like people to know that and he was in one of the greatest bands in history, which I wasn't a con. I groaned, sitting up completely and getting myself a glass of water. I hated thinking about all these things. They made everything more complicated. I shook my head. They didn't make anything complicated. They already were complicated, but me thinking about it just made me aware of it.

I put the glass in the sink and went back to 'bed'. I thought about the Beatles. Back in my own time I hadn't been a diehard fan. Of course I liked their music, I had most of their albums on my iPod and I had seen a few interviews and read about them in musical history books, but I had met other people who were way more into them than I had ever been. It was a good thing those people weren't sent back. They would've mucked everything right up in their excitement. I hoped I wouldn't. I tried to be careful, but I felt like I found it too hard to say 'no' to a good opportunity. If something came along I'd grab onto it. I couldn't help myself enrolling into art school or going to London with John Lennon and that was probably a pretty big problem.

I looked at the clock and saw it was close to half past one at night already. If I was going to try and catch the morning train with John, I had to at least try and sleep. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best, but it was several hours later already when I finally did fall asleep.

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So let's try and get this baby up to fifteen reviews, okay? That sounds reasonable if you ask me (: Just make them good ones. One really good review equals a million lame ones, haha!

PS: For the Harry Potter fans among us, I've got a fic for that as well and it will be updated soon!


	7. London baby!

Christ, this chapter is even longer than the last! Almost six and a half thousand words! I got about three reviews for last chapter and although they were all very lovely and I'm very grateful (I really am!), I would like to get a couple more next chapter? Yeah?

I do like to thank my reviewers: they have been very sweet and this chapter is for them!

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'Wake up sleepyhead!' The voice of John yelled in my ear. I groaned, turning around. He didn't lay off though, shaking my shoulders hard instead. I opened my eyes annoyed, trying hard to get my pupils to focus on John's face. 'What!?' I snapped.

'I thought I'd wake you before I left.' He said. I sat up a bit, rubbing my eyes with my fist. 'Where are you going? Aren't we supposed to catch the train in..-' I looked around for a clock '-a bit over an hour?' I looked back at him. Then I looked back at the clock in shock. 'An hour!? Why didn't you wake me before!?' I shrieked, jumping up and running to my bag and yanking out a modest looking grey dress. I glanced back at John, who was pouting.

'What are you looking surly about?' I asked him, quickly taking out all my schoolbooks and supplies. I very much doubted I'd be doing any school work in London, so why take it all with me? 'The new addition to your sleeping attire.' John answered me, eyeing the pyjama pants.

I looked down on them smiling. 'Yeah, I love them. Got them yesterday.' I said. John didn't seem to like them as much as I did and I smirked at him. He didn't say anything about the pants again, walking towards the doors. 'I'll meet you at the station. I have to pay someone else a visit first.' He said, taking his coat from the back of a chair and picking up a bag I hadn't realized was standing next to the couch. 'I'll see you on the platform.' He said.

'I'll see you there!' I called after him as he slammed the door closed. I quickly changed and checked my bag again, seeing if I had everything with me. Then I went into the kitchen, making myself a cup of tea and a sandwich. I hastily gulped the tea down and munched on the sandwich, watching the hands of the clock slowly moving.

Stuart came in, wrapped up in a bathrobe and his hair wet, just as I dumbed the empty cup in the sink. 'Good morning.' Stu said, putting the kettle back on. 'Goodbye!' I said, quickly pressing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. 'I'm off to the train station, but I'll see you in a couple of days!' I said. Stu smiled, washing out my cup so he could reuse it. 'Have fun.' He said. I smiled. 'You smell nice. What kind of soap do you use?' I asked, halfway through the door. Stu shrugged. 'Today I didn't use any. Just needed to wake up.' He said and I laughed. 'Well you smell nice showered. You should shower more often.' I said with a chuckle as I sped out of the kitchen. I quickly put on my jacket. I had to get a new coat I suppose. Not only was my twenty-first century jacket not very sixties, but also would it be getting colder soon. Denim jackets wouldn't cut it.

Stu came to see me off. 'Do you know how to get there?' He asked me and I shrugged. 'I'll find my way, I have a really good sense of direction.' I said. 'Just point me in the right direction.'

Stuart laughed and said 'Well, I'll point out the bus for you then. It's a pretty long walk.' He walked with me down the stairs and opened the front door for me. 'Just walk to the end of the road and you should see the bus stop somewhere to your left.' He said, pointing to the left.

'Thanks Stu.' I said, walking outside and turning back to him. 'Try and have fun without me.' I said and Stuart laughed. 'Oh, yeah, I'll try!' He said sarcastically and I made a face. We embraced in a hug once more and then I slung my bag over my shoulder, rushing towards the end of the street. Before I took the corner I looked around and I saw he was still standing there, watching me go. He waved at me. I waved back and then looked in front of me. I saw the bus speeding towards me.

'Wait!' I yelled, running towards the stop. The bus driver was about to drive on but he saw me just in time and he hit the brakes. I got in gasping for breath. 'Leave in time next time, missy! Almost didn't see you there!' He said and I nodded. 'Th-thanks..' I said, clutching my sides.

I slid into one of the seats, deciding I'd better stay close by the driver in case I had any questions about where to get out.

It was a fifteen minute drive to Liverpool Central and I said bye to the driver as I hopped out. He tipped his hat for me. I walked into the station and was quite impressed by it. It was a late nineteenth century building made out of big brick arches. It looked grand and imposing. I liked it. I walked in through the double doors and looked around. I saw a train conductor walk by and I quickly ran up to him. 'Excuse me!' I said. He turned to me with a pleasant smile. 'How can I help you dear?' He asked. 'I was just wondering at which platform will the next train to London go? I'm supposed to meet a friend there.' I told him. He lifted his hat and scratched his bald head.

'There isn't a direct train to London from here. It's all Merseyrailways here you see. I think you mean the train to Manchester. In Manchester the railway management changes and you can change trains to London. That's platform 2.' He said. 'Thank you very much, that helped a lot.' I said to him and he smiled, walking on to wherever he was going.

I hurried myself towards the platform and fortunately saw John smoking a cigarette, his bag by his feet. 'John!' I called and he whipped his head my way as I ran towards him. 'There you are! Thought you weren't going to show!' He said and I collapsed against a rubbish bin. 'I ran my lungs out! I wasn't designed for this!' I puffed, pulling my chin up a bit to look up at him. He smiled, looking at his watch. 'The train should be here any minute now.' He said.

I made a painful sounding noise and stood up straight. 'Alright, we better get our tickets then. I think I passed the ticket office on my way here.' I said, hoisting my bag a bit further up my shoulder. John rubbed the back of his neck, biting his lip. 'About that..' He said hesitantly. I raised my eyebrows at him. 'What now?' I asked and he flashed me a smile.'

'I just realized yesterday evening that I'm broke, especially because we're off to Hamburg next week and all. I'll have to just dodge the fare.' He said. I sighed. 'I'll dodge as well then. If we're going to dodge for you anyway, I don't see any point in getting myself a ticket.' I said and John seemed pleased with my answer. He was about to say something but the train rolled into the station. I stepped forward, watching the train ride up alongside the platform. My insides started to scream in joy as I saw the old fashioned steam engine. The train came to a halt and I let John get in first. That way it'd be easier for me to admire the train a bit more without looking like a weirdo.

Back in the noughts I had only travelled in one of these once before. In the east of the Netherlands, close to the borders of Germany, the German trains would go and if you would visit friends in the east of the country, you'd occasionally have to travel in German trains. Unlike the Dutch railway company, that got rid of all the old trains when new ones were getting put in use, the Germans kept the old ones, even when new ones were used as well. And they looked absolutely magnificent. It were times like these that made you wonder why things _ever_ changed. This was great!

The train was pretty full however and we couldn't find an empty compartment anywhere. In the end we just ended up sitting with a couple that looked so old that they could drop dead any moment. John and I kept stealing glances at them, checking if they were still alive and would then burst out laughing when we looked at each other again.

We got to Manchester without a bump. No conductor had come by and I felt relieved at that. I had done my fair share of fare dodging on the trains back home, but it was a risky thing to do because you could basically only run to the end of the train before they'd catch you. With a pretty face you could get away with a lot though. _Oh sorry, I didn't realize you had to actually _pay_ for these trips_!

'New city!' I called out as we stepped out onto the platform. 'I've been doing an awful lot of travelling lately.' I said to John as we walked out of the station.

Manchester looked much like Liverpool to me. Once beautiful buildings, but now rundown and grimy. I remembered reading that the northern cities of the UK had a lot of that, as they were often put on the back burner by the government behind the southern cities, like London.

We had half an hour before the train for London would leave so we walked around for a bit, but we didn't venture too far out, afraid of missing our ride. We got back a bit early, hoping to hold a compartment for ourselves. We had no such luck, as most people had thought the exact same thing as us but arrived a few minutes earlier. We thought we found an empty one for a second, but it turned out to have two suitcases stashed above the benches.

'Why, that's unfair!' John said, walking into the compartment. 'You can't just dump your suitcase and then swagger off again!' He said. I nodded in agreement. 'If you want the compartment, you've got to stay and hold the fort!' I said. I yanked at one of the suitcases and pulled it from the shelf onto the bench. I clicked it open. 'Ah, look at these!' I said, holding up a pair of white underpants.

John laughed, taking the other suitcase. He opened up his and his smile grew when he held up a light pink bra. I laughed, taking out a jacket. 'I bet this will suit you perfectly.' I told him, offering it to him. He held it up to his torso. 'Well, go on, try it on.' I said and he slipped into the dark suede jacket. 'You like it?' I asked and he nodded thoughtfully. He turned to his own suitcase. 'I tried on your jacket, now you've got to try one of mine as well.' He said and he pushed the bra at me. I laughed, throwing it back at him. 'Give me something else.' I said.

He dug through the suitcase and took out a tight looking purple dress. 'Purple clashes with my hair.' I said, looking upwards to my ginger bangs. He shrugged. 'I think it'll suit you just fine.' He said and I took the dress from his hands. 'Well, okay then.' I said. 'Turn around.'

John groaned a bit but did turn around and I quickly slipped the dress over my own, inching it out from under the new purple one. 'Are you done already?' John asked impatiently. 'Yeah, you can turn around.' I said and John turned around. His impatient frown was instantly replaced by a pleased smirk and I made a quick spin for him. 'You like it then?' I asked and John looked me back in the eye. 'Love, you better bet I do.' He said. He took a step forward and was about to say something more and my heart started to race nervously, but suddenly the door to our compartment opened and someone said: 'What the hell!?'

John and I both looked towards the door and saw a man with a thin moustache look at us and his open suitcase in outrage. 'William, what's wrong?' A woman's voice asked from outside the compartment. 'Good day!' John said to this William and he pushed him aside, pulling me along as we ran down the train, leaving William and his girl behind. 'Wait, was that _my_ dress!' I heard her exclaim just as we hopped to the next wagon.

Halfway down the train we couldn't go any further because we were laughing too much. 'Did you see his face!' I gasped, leaning on John's shoulder. John wasn't any steadier though, leaning against the wall. 'What a square!' He said, pinking a tear of laughter out of his eyes.

'Besides..' He said, straightening his new piece of clothing. 'I've got myself a new jacket.' He said. I frowned at him. '_I_ got you a new jacket.' I said and John rolled his eyes. 'Well, _I_'ve got you a new dress.' He said and I looked down at the wine coloured thing.

'Yeah, I'm not sure I like it yet. I need to see myself in a mirror first. Purple doesn't normally look very good on me.' I said and although I was looking down I knew John was rolling his eyes again. He seemed to be doing that a lot.

Suddenly a train conductor came by. 'No unnecessary walking in the hallways please.' He said as both of us held in our breath. 'We were just going to get a cup of tea, sir.' John said. 'Then you're going the wrong way.' The conductor said. 'I'll walk with you, I have to go the same way as well. I'm starting my tickets round.' He said and John and I eyed each other as he turned his back to us and started walking to the other end of the train, where we just came from.

John nodded his head towards the other end and I nodded and we both silently stalked the other way. I could hear the conductor talk to us as he thought we were still behind him. We kept walking till we were at the absolute end of the train, standing outside on the little balcony, watching the rails shoot away from underneath us.

I was putting the grey dress I had put on that morning in my bag. 'So, what are we going to do when we get there?' I wondered out loud. John looked at me sideways, lighting up a cigarette. 'It was your grand idea going there; what were you planning?' He asked me and I shrugged, making a face. 'Nothing. Just thought London would be nice. We should probably look for a place to stay first.' I said, leaning against the door.

'You know what Marit?' John suddenly said, tossing his cigarette off the side of the speeding train. 'I like you. I don't know many birds that would come to Liverpool on a whim and then go to London on another.' He said and I laughed. 'Well, thanks, I suppose.' I replied.

We stood there joking for another hour or so, but then went back inside. We still had about two hours to go, but they passed quickly as we tried to duck into restrooms and bars as much as we could, avoiding the conductor we had escaped earlier. He didn't seem to be looking for us, but we didn't want to risk paying a fee.

When we got to London people started to pile out of their compartments in top speed, like they had to be somewhere really quick. John and I sauntered after them as they all impatiently waited by the doors until the train was going slow enough that they could open them and jump out without getting seriously injured.

John jumped out as well, running along with the train as I refused to get out until the train had completely stopped. I had tried jumping out of a moving vehicle once in Paris, out of the subway, as you can open the doors before the metro has actually stopped moving. My wallet had been stolen and I had tried to get back as fast as possible, but jumping out of the riding train only ended up hurting my knee. My wallet was still stolen.

When I finally got out we both lazily walked out of the station. With a little shock I realized we were at Kings Cross Station. I grabbed onto John's arm in surprise. He glanced at me confused, but didn't take much notice otherwise. This was the first time since I had gotten in 1960 that I had actually visited a place that I had been to before.

When I had visited London in 2000something I of course had to visit Kings Cross, getting myself a picture with Platform 9 ¾. However Harry Potter hadn't been written yet and wouldn't be for another forty years. For the past week it had been strangely easy to ignore the fact that I was in 1960; I had always been quite old fashioned, but now I saw a familiar place like Kings Cross suddenly completely different, although still quite the same.. It was unnerving and I started to slightly shake. 'Are you alright?' John asked me, stopping and putting his hands on my shoulders.

I nodded nervously. 'Yes, I'm perfect. Let's find a hotel or something.' I said. John didn't look convinced, but let his arms drop to his side anyway and together we walked down Euston Road, hoping to just come across something that resembled anything like a hotel.

We walked for a while, getting off the main street and weaving into the smaller streets around the station. After about an hour of walking around we found a tiny little hotel that looked cheap enough for us to afford, called the _Big Pillow Inn_ on Bidborough Street. John and I looked up to the building and then look at each other. We decided this was the best we were going to come across.

When the little bell above the door rang a woman came rushing from a door behind a reception desk. 'Welcome to Dwelling's _Big Pillow Inn_! How can I help you?' She asked as we walked up to the counter. John leaned on the desk.

'Well my beloved wife and I were hoping to get ourselves a nice room during our honeymoon.' He said, putting his arm over my shoulder and pulling me to his chest. 'Oh, how sweet! Of course I'll get you the best we can offer!' The woman in her early sixties said, putting on her glasses and looking in the register. I threw John a glare which he steadily ignored.

'We've got just the perfect room for you.' The woman said, looking back up to us. I quickly plastered on a smile matching John's. 'It's on the top floor though, so you'll have to walk up a few flights of stairs.' She said. 'That'll do!' John bellowed, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

The woman took a key from underneath the desk and beckoned us to follow her through a door. The door lead to a hallway with a steep stairway. 'Christ, it's practically a ladder!' John said as we walked up. 'Don't go about using the Lord's name in vain now, young man! He's always watching you, remember that.' The woman scolded and John rolled his eyes at me. I bit my lip, swallowing my laughter.

'Yes John, you are being ridiculous.' I said. 'Besides, _all_ the stairs in the Netherlands are like this. Narrow, steep and dangerous.' I told him and John looked back at me with interest. 'Really? Don't you guys have just, like, you know.. Stairs?' He asked and I laughed. 'Of course we do, I was exaggerating. But stairs do tend to be a lot more compressed. We have less space.' I said. The woman didn't appear to be listening and once we got to the top floor she only waited for us to climb up after her. 'The room on your right is your room. I hope you will enjoy your stay and please ask if you need anything. I'm afraid you can't ring down, but we are hoping to install a phone service by the end of next year.' She said. John took the key from her. 'I think we'll be gone by then. We are only staying for a couple of days.' He said. I elbowed him. '_But_ thanks anyway.' He added.

The woman smiled at us. 'I'm so glad to see two young vibrant people married and happy. Are you sure you will both like the room?' She asked. I tried to keep control of my face, so John answered. 'I'm quite content with whatever we have and I'm sure that the missus will agree when I say we are very satisfied already.' He said, leaning down and pressing a wet sloppy kiss to my cheek. I had to keep myself from making a face and wiping my face with my sleeve.

The woman seemed to be thinking it was an adorable display of affection and she put her hand on her heart. 'It reminds me of when my husband and I first got married, almost forty years ago.' She said. She glanced at us one last time and then made her way back down the stairs, leaving us alone with the key.

'Married?' I hissed at him. He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. 'They always give the best rooms to the honeymooners. Wouldn't want to get stuck in one of the backrooms, now would we?' He said and I narrowed my eyes at him. 'I suppose we wouldn't, no..' I reluctantly agreed. 'Good, now let's take a look at that room.' John said, holding up the key as a big prize.

We unlocked the room and it turned out to be quite an average looking room. 'Did we pretend to be married for this?' I joked and John threw a pillow towards me. I caught it and walked towards the bed, suddenly realizing it was a double. 'I'm not sleeping in a bed with you.' I commented drily and John looked hurt. 'Isn't that why we got married?' He asked me in a funny voice and I stuck out my tongue. 'Come on..' I said, starting to pull at one side of the bed. 'Help me separate the two.' I said and with a few theatrical sighs John joined me at the other side of the bed and together we separated the two single beds that were pushed together.

'I suppose we'll have to ask for extra linen.' I said thoughtfully, scratching my head. 'Oh, forget about the linen!' John said, flopping down at one of the beds. 'I want to go out!' He said. I raised my eyebrows at him. 'Okay, we will, Mr Hasty, let me just freshen up first.' I said, pushing his booted feet off the white bed sheets. I walked into the bathroom and saw a tall mirror next to the small shower. I stood in front of it to inspect the stolen dress. To my surprise it actually looked quite good on me. The deep wine colour accentuated my hair more than it clashed with it. I smiled at myself, smoothing it down a bit. I looked at my hair.

The girls in the sixties didn't wear their hair in the same way as we did in the twenty-first century. I couldn't quite see how they got their hair in the way they had it, but I had to ask Darlene as soon as I got back to spending the nights at the homeless shelter.

Or I could live at John and Stu's place while they were gone. Stuart had offered it and otherwise they'd only lose the flat, but was that supposed to happen? Would I change anything important by flat-sitting for them? I couldn't quite see how I would hurt anyone. Maybe someone else wouldn't get the flat if I got there and because of that wouldn't make some life altering steps. I groaned as I thought of everything that my entire presence here could change. The fact that John and I were staying in this room already meant that someone else couldn't.

I looked back at my hair. How did they get it high like they did, or that weird little curl on the bottom? My hair was straight and my bangs were straight and although I had never before minded it's straightness; people often complimented my hair, I now did mind it because it was just another thing that made me noticeable and different, something I really didn't need right now.

'Are you done already? I want to get going!' John yelled from the other room and with a final speculative glance at my red hair I walked out. 'Yeah, I'm done. Let's go get something to eat first. I'm really hungry and it's about dinner time anyway.' I said.

We ended up buying a loaf of bread and eating the dry slices while we were laughing and pointing at people on the street. We didn't have a lot of money and we'd be going clubbing later on. It was around ten when we passed a club with nice rock 'n roll coming out of the doors and we decided we had enough of walking around.

We walked in but were stopped by two bouncers. 'How old are you two?' The slightly bigger one of the two incredibly big men asked. 'I'm nineteen and she's eighteen.' John said, looking slightly offended by being stopped. It probably never happened to him in Liverpool where they all knew him well. The bouncer looked us up and down but then let us through.

Inside it was really busy. It was a Saturday night and it looked the part, with people dancing and drinking. The air was hazy with smoke. I didn't know if the _Jacaranda Club_ I had been to in Liverpool was representative for _all_ Liverpool clubs, but if it was, the London clubs looked a hell of a lot more "clubby". There were more bright colours and lights and the bars seemed to serve cocktails in high glasses. The _Jacaranda_ was very much beer only with an improvised stage.

'This is different.' I yelled in John's ear over the loud music, looking around the club in judgement. John looked excited by the slightly more professional exterior of this London club and he pulled me towards the bar. 'A whiskey!' He yelled at the barman, who only nodded and fixed him with a glass. John handed him the money and then looked at me questioningly.

I considered having a whiskey myself as well, but I shouldn't. With a slight shudder I remembered my puberty; coming home drunk at five in the morning every night, stinking of booze and sweat. It had been a few years since I had last acted like that, but I felt like it was too easy to slip back into that behaviour. I only stopped doing it when I realized that my parents couldn't care less whether I was an alcoholic teenager or not. Attention seeking wouldn't work and it was time for me to do my own thing and worry about the real problems in the world. My parents were a lost cause anyway.

I shook my head at John. 'Just a beer is fine.' I yelled at him. I would be having none of the strong stuff. As long as I kept to the light alcoholic beverages I'd be fine. I'd just have a few and then switch over to Coca Cola.

John handed me my beer and together we made our way over to the back of the club, right next to the stage where a funky sounding band was playing some trumpet-y version of a song I recognized. 'What song is this?' I asked John and John pointed at his ears, shaking his head. 'The song!?' I yelled again. 'It's Shout! By the Isley Brothers!' He called back. I nodded, pretending I knew them very well. In reality it only rang a little bell.

Suddenly a boy came up to us. He looked handsome enough, his hair was up like John's and he was wearing a spiffy looking dark blue suit. He asked me something. I leaned forward. 'What!?' I yelled. 'Could I persuade you to dance with me!?' He called a bit louder. I suppressed a smile. I looked back at John but he had turned around to talk to a blonde girl with the high hair that all those sixties girls seemed to have. I turned back to the boy, placing my hand in his. 'I'd love to!'

The boy turned out to be named Lawrence and he lived in London. He was a student of beta-gamma whatever the hell that was and was twenty years old. He didn't seem impressed when I told him I was an arts student in Liverpool, but he did seem interested in the fact that I came from Amsterdam.

'So how is Amsterdam?' He asked. We had finished dancing after a couple of songs and he had pulled out my chair when we went to sit down at a table a bit further away from the stage so we could at least hear each other.

'A lot less dangerous and exciting than people like to think.' I told him, sipping from my beer. 'Scratch that, it actually is a very exciting town, but not the dangerous kind. I feel safe walking the streets.' I said and he nodded vigorously. 'I have the same with London. People always tell you that the big city is going to be absolutely hazardous and you will get mucked every single day, _guaranteed_, but in reality it's just a very normal place.' He said and I yawned. 'Oh, I'm sorry!' I said, touching his arm. 'I didn't mean to yawn! It's just been a long day!' I said and he smiled. 'It's okay. Do tell when I bore you though.' He said and that made me laugh.

'Marit, love!' Someone yelled at me. Both Lawrence and I looked up and I saw John walking up to me with his arms over the shoulders of two girls, one of which was the blonde I left him talking to earlier. 'I'm off to the hotel, so I suggest you don't come after if you don't want to join in our little party.. Which you are naturally invited to.' He said, burrowing his face in the neck of one of the girls, making them both laugh. All three of them were obviously drunk.

'How long should I give you? Two minutes?' I yelled after him as he walked away but he merely flipped me off without looking back. I laughed delighted. I turned back to Lawrence and he seemed to be a bit put off. 'Oh excuse me..' I said a bit embarrassed. 'We do not normally have an audience.' I said. Lawrence chuckled at that. 'That's fine. You two seem to be good friends. How long have you known each other?' He asked and I bit my lip. 'About a week. A bit less actually.' I said and Lawrence raised his eyebrows.

'You always take trips to London with men you just met?' He asked and I pretended to be offended. 'What are you insinuating!' I cried out in a posh voice. Lawrence smiled. 'You seem a bit silly, but I don't think I mind that.' He said. I rolled my eyes. 'Oh golly, thanks a lot Lawrence.' I said.

We stayed talking for another hour but then both of us decided to get going. 'I'll walk you back to your hotel.' He said and offered me his arm, which I took with a curtsy. We lazily strolled through the London streets, taking a lot more time getting to the hotel than we probably needed. Once in front of the hotel I let go of his arm.

'We should probably not stand in front of the doors.' I said, pushing Lawrence back a bit, to get out of sight of the reception desk, although there was no one sitting there at the moment. 'John and I are pretending to be newly-weds in order to get ourselves a better room. It won't look good if I come home with another man.' I explained to him and then I laughed. 'However, John probably already ruined that by coming back drunk out of his wits with _two_ other girls!' I said and Lawrence chuckled.

'I quite like being the other man though.' He said in a low voice and I smiled at him. 'We don't have to tell the husband.' I said, stepping slightly closer. 'No, we don't.' Lawrence agreed, as he put his hand on my cheek. 'I probably will though.' I said and with a laugh Lawrence was about to cross the distance between us when a loud voice interrupted us. 'Cheating on our wedding night?'

We both looked up but saw no one. 'I'm up here, you two lying bastards!' The voice of, obviously, John said and we both looked up the building and saw that John was hanging out of the window at the top floor. He still looked drunk, but slightly less so than before and he was grinning like a madman. 'Come on up Marit, I can't have you hanging out with strange men on the street!' He said, before getting back inside, banging the windows closed.

I looked back at Lawrence. 'You heard the man. Business calls.' I said. Lawrence looked slightly disappointed so as to not leave him completely hanging I quickly leaned forward and pressed a fast kiss to his lips. He seemed genuinely surprised by the kiss, but his grin afterwards suggested that he rather enjoyed it.

'Good night.' I said and I quickly slipped into the hotel lobby, running up the stairs in lightning speed. At the top floor I carefully opened the door to our room, hoping I wouldn't be encountering a disaster and being slightly let down.

'Oh John, couldn't you have just kept it on the bed!' I said a bit annoyed as I looked over the spectacle of sheets and blankets strewn across the floor and empty bottles standing on every bit of open surface. 'When did you find the time to drink anymore anyway?' I asked, eyeing the empty bottles.

On one of the single beds was one of the two girls sleeping. Or it could just as well have been a coma because she looked to be out cold. 'Where is the other one?' I asked John, who just came out of the bathroom, carrying a glass of water. 'She already went home.' John answered, gulping down the water. 'So did you have fun? I gave you enough time for it anyway.' I said and he winked at me. 'Only just. The other one left barely fifteen minutes ago.' He said.

I kicked off my shoes and slipped out of my coat. I was looking through my bag for my pyjamas and I didn't realize that John had come up behind me, not until he put his hands on my waist. I let out a little shriek and spun around. 'Easy!' John said, laughing.

'I just thought that, now you are free from that big bore Larry, you and I could have some fun.' He said as seductively as his alcohol befuddled mind could manage. 'He's called Lawrence, was only a little bit of a bore and I think you had enough fun for tonight.' I said, knowing exactly how to deal with drunk people as I was one of them from the ages thirteen to sixteen.

I took his hands of my waist and steered him to his bed by his shoulders. 'There's a girl there, I can't sleep there!' He said childishly and I sighed. 'Well, you're not getting my bed so you either climb in with your one-night-camping-site you brought home or you sleep on the floor.' I said. He made a face and asked; 'Camping site?' but I pushed him down next to the girl in question with a groan. 'Sleep.' I ordered him and he saluted me from his horizontal position. Then he turned around and nuzzled a bit closer to the blonde.

I looked at his back for a few moments, overcoming a strange feeling of disappointment, but I quickly shook it off and went to get my pyjamas. Although his back was turned to me, I didn't quite trust this drunken John (although I didn't quite trust the sober John either to be honest) so I changed in the bathroom. I brushed out my hair and brushed my teeth and then got myself a towel from the rack, seeing as John and his slag had taken the linen. I should've asked for more linen before we had left and shouldn't have listened to John about it.

I laid down on the bed, using the soft fluffy towel as a cover and curled up underneath it. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it had just struck three.

I laid staring at John's back for a few minutes but then rolled over to look at the wall instead, but I couldn't quite block out the heavy breathing of John and the lighter breathing of the girl next to him.

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Review please!

This chapter gave us a bit more insight on Marit's past in Amsterdam. She did have a life before she was transported back to 1960 and I feel it's important to make that noticeable. I don't want it to be overpowering though, so please leave your thoughts on that. And don't worry. Lawrence won't be a permanent cast member or anything (:


	8. The last days

And another chapter for you! This is the longest yet, almost 8000 words (that's about 10 pages in Word I just discovered XD). I wrote the whole chapter in an hour, but was stuck on the last half a page for weeks. What're you gonna do, eh? Hope you will like it, READ AND REVIEW!

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I woke up very slowly. Light was prickling my eyelids, but I was laying too comfortable to open them yet. Then I realized that there was a blanket on top of me. I had fallen asleep with only a towel to huddle under, but a thick plush-y duvet was covering me now. And then, at last, I realized that two arms were snaked around my waist.

I screamed and jumped up, knocking the stranger off the bed in the process. 'Bloody hell, Marit, calm down!' John yelled, rubbing his eyes. He made no move to stand up from the floor, but he just took the blanket and lay on top of it, closing his eyes.

'Don't tell me that!' I shrieked at him. 'What fuck do you think you were doing!?' I yelled and he opened one eye in annoyance. 'Polly had to leave for work and the bed was cold without her, so I thought you could use a blanket and we might as well share.' He said nonchalantly, trying to make light of it, but I was not having it.

'Think twice next time, because next time I'll knock your teeth out!' I hissed. John now did open his eyes all the way, sitting upright. 'Are you trying to threaten me?' He asked me, his voice low and his face dark. I didn't feel intimidated. 'I'm not threatening you, I'm warning you. If you do it again, I'll knock your teeth out.' I stated.

For a few seconds the air in the room was incredibly tense and neither of us said anything and just stared at each other with narrowed eyes but then my curiosity won it from my fury. 'Who is Polly anyway?' I asked.

The anger seemed to flow out of John immediately and his shoulders relaxed. He shrugged. 'The girl from last night, you remember?' He said and I nodded thoughtfully. I did remember her. 'The blonde? Was she any good?' I asked obnoxiously and John raised his eyebrows at me. 'Not really.' He admitted after a moment.

I smirked at that, walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. 'I'm taking a shower, stay out!' I yelled. I heard John murmur something back and I shouted a warning 'JOHN!' and then he shouted back 'Yeah yeah, okay!'.

I took a quick shower, feeling two days' worth of grime fall off me and then stepped out. I reached for the towel and then realized that I had used it as a blanket. I looked for another one around the bathroom, but the owners had provided us with only one.

I swore loudly in Dutch and then bit my lip. I opened the door an inch and looked at my bed, seeing it laying prominently in the middle. John was sitting on his own bed, looking through the phonebook. 'John, could you hand me the towel? Please?' I asked nervously.

John looked up and saw me looking through the crack of the door. The all too familiar smirk crept onto his face. 'Oh, you need one then?' He asked me and I sighed. 'Yes John, I need one and if you could be ever so kind to hand it to me, I'd be..-' I began but John interrupted me. 'Oi, don't be snarky with me!' He said laughing, leaning over and picking up the towel, throwing it over to me. I caught it, sticking out my bare arm, retracting it as quick as I could again, slamming the door shut.

Ten minutes later I came out of the bathroom again, fully clothed and combing my hair with my hands. 'I need a comb!' I said annoyed, looking at my reflection in the window. 'You can borrow mine.' John said but I made a face. 'The one you smear in the grease with? Don't be gross.' I rejected him. He rolled his eyes.

We went down for breakfast after. Or lunch, as it was already almost one in the afternoon. We were in luck, because apparently both the owners were already asleep when both John and I got back to the hotel, which spared us a lot of embarrassment. Mrs Dwelling, the owner's wife, had made a big lunch in the dining room and all the tenants were sitting around the table, some of them talking, some of them just staring at their plate.

'Remember love, we're married.' John whispered to me, pulling me closer by the waist. 'I'll remember.. If you remember what I'd do to your teeth.' I whispered back. John made a face at me, but his hand moved to my back instead of my waist.

'Oh the newlyweds!' Mrs Dwelling called out and the entire table looked up. My face reddened and a smug smile appeared on John's face, which I wiped off with an elbow in the ribs. I saw a few eyebrows around the dining table rise when they saw us, probably not vast asleep like Mr and Mrs Dwelling when John had stumbled in drunkenly with two girls hanging off his arms.

'Good morning Mrs Dwelling..' I murmured, sitting down. John sat down next to me, reaching for the butter. 'Oh, that reminds me, you should still register at the front office. If you could just come by after lunch?' Mrs Dwelling asked and because John's mouth was full, I answered. 'Yes of course Mrs Dwelling.' I said.

We had a quick breakfast and we registered at the front desk. We put ourselves down as Mr and Mrs John Goofenhaussmirtz, which John got a great kick out of. For the rest of the day we lazily walked around town. I told him we would have to visit a museum the next day. He only laughed, thinking I was joking. He wouldn't know what hit him the day after.

Around dinner time we went and bought a bottle of wine and a couple of things to snack on by means of dinner. We didn't have the budget to just eat out when we wanted. I thought of the 500 pounds in my bag, but I shook my head. I needed to be careful with that money. I didn't have a job and had to stay around for a hell of a lot longer.

John put his arm over my shoulder as we walked into the hotel and we nodded at the smiling Mrs Dwelling pleasantly. I pushed his arm off when we were out of sight. In the room I threw the paper bag with groceries at his bed. 'There..' I said. 'You get first pick.' I offered him and he took out an apple, rubbing it against his plaid shirt. 'An apple? That's a boring choice!' I said, taking out a box of what were called Cherry Sours. John laughed. 'Oh, don't worry, I'll be right behind you!' He said, taking a slobbering bite of the green Granny Smith apple.

He then leaned backwards, rummaging in his bag and took out a deck of cards. 'Come on, I'll play you for the duvet tonight.' He said. We still hadn't asked for extra. I grinned inwardly, putting up a bewildered face. 'Play? Like poker?' I asked him innocently and I saw his mouth set into a smirk. 'Yeah, don't worry love, I'll go easy on you.' He said and I nodded appreciatively. On the inside I was cheering. He was so dead.

I _killed_ at cards. I had spent many years in the shady backrooms of clubs and there you basically learn how to play cards like a pro. But even there I had been exceptional. They used to call me the Queen of Hearts when I played the gambling tables in the illegal circuits of black market Amsterdam. I was under-aged after all. I wasn't technically allowed to join in, so it had to be the illegal circuits, otherwise I couldn't join at all.

'So, you want me to explain the rules to you?' He asked me and I smiled, nodding, keeping up my inexperienced little dunce charade. It turned out he didn't really know the rules that well and I would softly correct him once in a while, saying stuff like; 'But doesn't the Flush beat the Straight?' and he would scratch his head and say; 'Oh, yes, perhaps it does. I was thinking of the Straight Flush..' After he was done explaining the rules to me, I got into basic poker mode, holding the cards in reverse order so he wouldn't know what cards I was holding.

Poker with just two people was called Heads Up and was often considered far more difficult, mostly because there was a smaller chance of hitting a good hand. We'd play it tournament style instead of with cold hard cash and you'd play it till there was a winner.

After half an hour I began to become suspicious. John had been having winning hands for the last twenty minutes, something that should be highly unlikely. He just had to be cheating. I tried to keep my narrowed eyes at him, but I couldn't quite catch him doing anything out of the order.

'You're really good at this game, aren't you John?' I asked him nonchalantly, folding. He winked at me. 'Well, it's just your first time playing.. You'll get the hang of it eventually.' He said. He laid down his hand smugly, showing me his Five of a Kind. 'Ha!' I called out, pointing at him.

'You are a cheating bastard!' I accused him, gesturing towards the Aces in front of me. He spluttered. 'Am not!' He disagreed, but I saw something tugging on his mouth. I threw down the hand I had folded. I almost had a Full House, with three Jacks, but having a heart 5 and a heart Ace. I pointed at my Ace and then at his. 'Then explain the five Aces to me!' I called out. John bit his lip, now obviously trying not to smile but failing and put his hands in the air.

'If we were going to play a rigged game, you should've told me! I could at least get my crooked cards out as well!' I said with a laugh. John furrowed his brow. 'What? You can actually play?' He asked me and I punched his shoulder, gathering the cards and hustling them up expertly. 'Are you kidding me? I'm the _Queen_ of the cards!' I said.

John just stared at me for a moment and then started laughing a roaring laugh. 'You are actually good at poker?' He asked me and I raised my eyebrows at him, flipping the cards from one hand to the other. 'We could play something else if you want? Blackjack, pinochle, whist, Texas hold'em, Casino, bridge, whatever you'd like.. And this time we're playing for the blanket.' I said and John looked impressed. 'Let's just stay with poker..' He said hesitantly. I nodded and started parting the cards, hustling them one last time.

It was a wise choice of John's to stay with poker because he had the most chance of winning in poker, as poker was very much a game of chance, more so than probably any other card game. Before I dealt the cards I looked at him pointedly. 'Seriously John, you are only allowed to play rigged if you give some of your extra cards to me.' I said. He made a face at him but I ignored it and gestured to his sleeve. 'Come on, empty it out.' I said.

He sighed as if I had done him some great wrong and then unbuttoned his sleeve, reaching in and drawing out almost half a packet of high cards, like Aces, Kings and Queens. I laughed. 'You're not much of a card player, but you're a hell of a crook!' I told him and he grinned at me. 'You shouldn't have kept throwing in the high cards in a Heads Up poker game. It's rare for it to happen once or twice, never mind six times! You're lucky you're under friends.' I said.

'Oh please..' He said. 'What would you have done?' He asked me sceptically and I narrowed my eyes at him, dealing the cards blind. 'The places where I used to play would tie you to a bike and throw the bike in the canal if they caught you cheating.' I said and John frowned at me. 'Where the hell did you play then?' He asked me and I picked up my hand, shrugging, sorting the cards in a pleasing order.

'Oh you know. In the back of clubs and stuff.' I said evasively. He didn't want to drop it though, not picking up his hand. I hid behind my cards, putting much more thought into them than I would normally do. 'No, I don't know, explain.' He said demandingly.

I huffed, looking up from my cards. 'I won't.' I said. John put his cards aside. 'I won't play before you do.' He said and I looked from his cards to his face and back again. 'Hey, don't just..-' I began but John interrupted me. 'Listen, Stu and I took you in our flat without any questions, but enough of that. I want to know more about you.' He said and I frowned. 'Don't be such a girl.' I tried to side-track him but he just grimaced at me, saying nothing.

I glared at him, putting down my own cards as well, standing up. 'I'll just take the blanket then.' I said, picking up the blanket and walking to my own bed. I snuggled down underneath, turning my back to John and I heard John sigh tiredly. 'Maaaaaariiiiiiiiiiit!' he said in a whiny voice. I ignored him, taking a particular interest to a stain on the lavender wallpaper.

It was quiet for a few moments but then I heard John get up and I presumed he was going to the bathroom, but suddenly his heavy weight pressed down on me and I realized he sat on me. 'Jesus, _fuck_, you're fat!' I yelled out and John poked me in disagreement.

'What's the fucking problem anyway? Why can't you just tell me a bit about yourself?' He asked me, not getting off. I wheezed. 'None of your business!' I managed to get out and John wiggled a bit, making it even more painful and uncomfortable. 'Okay, okay!' I cried out. John stopped wiggling. 'Okay what?' He asked and I took a deep breath. 'Okay, I'll tell you.. A bit.' I said.

John gave me another wiggle for good measure but then got off, settling down at the foot of my bed, crossing his ankles as he spread his legs across the bed. I sat up a tiny bit so I could look at him and he watched me expectantly. 'What do you want to know?' I asked defensively. John shrugged. 'Where did you grow up?' He asked. I frowned at him. 'You know that. Amsterdam.' I said. He shook his head. 'No, but what kind of neighbourhood? What's your family like? That sort of stuff..' He elaborated and I pursed my lips a bit.

'Well, I grew up beside a canal near the city centre. It was an okay neighbourhood. At night there was a bit of a rowdy youth hanging around, but if you lived there you didn't have much to do with them.' I said vaguely. 'I have two parents and no siblings.' I said, very much evading real answers. John wasn't stupid though.

'Aw, come on Marit! Just tell me! I promise I won't tell anybody.' He said and I bit my lip. 'I don't know what you're talking about.' I lied and he groaned, falling forward, his head leaning on my legs. 'Marit, what kind of kid learns to play poker in the back of a club with people who apparently throw you into a canal if you don't play nice and proper? And your mum? The other night you said she _was_ a chef? What happened to her?' He asked.

I let myself flop back down, burying my face in my pillow. 'My mum..' I began hesitantly. 'My _parents_ aren't around anymore.' I said eventually and I was aware of what that sounded like. However, saying that was easier than telling him I had left them in the year 2013. I looked up from my pillow and I saw John stare at me with a stony expression. 'I'm sorry.' He said after a while and I shrugged. 'They were never really around to be honest.' I tried to divert. 'I was one of the most difficult teenagers imaginable but they just couldn't care.' I said.

I stayed silent for a moment but when John didn't say anything either, I decided to just talk on. 'I was about thirteen when I started drinking. I'm not sure why, because I wasn't really supposed to I think. I knew other kids would get in trouble if they did and I was sort of hoping I would too. I wanted the attention I didn't get.' I told John thoughtlessly. 'I didn't come home for several nights in a row and I'd make friends with really bad people.' I murmured, retreating back into my memories.

It was a bit hard remembering certain parts, not only because a lot of them weren't pleasant, but more so because I drank so much then. I could literally not remember.

'I was sixteen when I realized my parents hadn't done anything to stop me yet and just really didn't care about what happened to me and I was sick of not remembering the night before and being sick in the street and just being like that.' I sighed and I sat up, throwing back the duvet.

'If you promise not to try something, we can share the duvet.' I said to John and he nodded solemnly, climbing in next to me, pulling the blanket over him. We both sat upright in bed, staring off into the nothingness of our own thoughts.

'My mum's dead as well..' John said after a while and I looked at him sideways. 'That sucks.' I said. John nodded. 'I don't know about my dad. He can be dead also for all I care.' He told me honestly and I grabbed his hand under the blanket. I squeezed it reassuringly. 'Is that why you lived with your aunt?' I asked. John seemed to think about it but then shook his head.

'My mum.. I love her dearly, but there was a lot going on with her. I was better off with my aunt and uncle.' John said dismissively. I nodded. 'My own uncle lived next to the flat my parents and I lived in. He was the best thing in my life.' I said. John gripped my hand tighter. 'You say "was" again..' He trailed off and I scooted down a bit. 'He's gone too.' I said.

I was glad John didn't ask how because I didn't have the energy to think of anything. John scooted down as well and our shoulders were pressed into each other. 'Is it horrible of me to be happy about your misery?' He asked me suddenly and I frowned at him. 'Yes, a bit.' I said. 'Why are you happy?' I asked him and he looked at the ceiling.

'I always was the unluckiest person I knew, but now I'm not anymore.' He said and I smiled at that. 'Don't worry John. There are still far less fortunate screw-ups than us two.' I told him. We both smiled, scooting back all the way, nuzzling under the blanket. Our sides were pressed together and our hands were entwined, but other than that we weren't really touching.

I felt myself drift to sleep slowly. 'Marit?' John asked and I could hear by his voice that he was still wide awake. I made a slight noise to show I was listening. 'Are you happy?' He asked and I blinked the sleep out of my eyes unsuccessfully. 'Right now I'm not unhappy.' I said evasively.

After that John didn't ask any more questions and it didn't take long before I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up with my arms around his waist, his own arms around my back. Our legs were tangled together. I yawned, staying in the same position for a few minutes, but then slowly retracting my arms. John stirred, pulling me a little closer. I pushed him off a bit and his arms loosened behind me.

I got up and went to have a shower. The London air was very polluted and I could just feel it sticking to my skin. When I came out of the bathroom, John was just waking up. 'Good morning!' I sang to him and he mmmh-ed at me. 'You should get up. It's almost eleven and I have plans for us!' I said and he sat up on his elbows at that, looking at me curiously. 'What kind of plans?' He asked me and I shrugged my shoulders mysteriously. 'You'll see when we get there.' I told him.

He didn't take a shower like me and only threw on a new shirt, quickly looking in the mirror to adjust his greasy Elvis-hair. 'John, your last shower was before we left for London..' I said making a face. He looked at me sideways from the mirror. 'So?' He asked me. 'That's disgusting!' I answered him. 'You better take a shower today!' I said to him. He ignored me.

I walked us out of the hotel, offering him a jelly baby from the bag we had bought the day before but hadn't had a chance in finishing yet. He took a handful, stuffing them in his mouth. 'Charming..' I commented and he tried to say something back but his mouth was too full.

'Where are we going anyway?' He asked me after we had been walking for almost ten minutes. 'It's not too far, if I remember right! Only ten minutes more and we're there!' I said to him. I hoped I remembered right, seeing as the last time I had been there was a couple of years back for me and in an entirely different century at that.

It turned out to be fifteen minutes, rather than ten and I thanked my wonderful sense of direction for knowing my way around. 'What is this?' John asked me suspiciously as we walked up the gravel path of the Natural History Museum. He looked up the impressive building. 'It looks like boring stuff happens inside.' He told me and I rolled my eyes. 'Don't worry, you'll love it.' I only said, pulling him along by his jacket, the black suede one that we had stolen out of the man's suitcase on the train.

'Wow..!' John let his mouth escape as we walked in the grand doorway and he lay eyes on the dinosaur skeleton that stood in the middle of the gigantic hallway. 'It's cool, isn't it?' I said to John, who just stood staring up at the long dead creature.

'It's a _Diplodocus_ I think. I used to really love dinosaurs when I was a kid.' I told John and John looked away from the dinosaur and looked at me instead. 'What's this place?' He asked again and this time I answered. 'It's the Natural History Museum. I figured you wouldn't want to come if I told you in advance.' I said and John laughed. 'You got that right.' He said.

I walked on and John trailed after me. 'Don't we have to pay somewhere?' John asked me uncertainly looking around. I frowned at him. 'John, idiot, museums are free in England..' I said to him and he narrowed his eyes at me. 'No, they're not..' He said and I widened my eyes. He was right. That law had only come into order in the late nineties or so.

'Oh, stupid me, I was thinking of something else!' I said, slapping my own forehead, trying to play it off. John didn't say anything but kept his eyes narrowed at me. We found the ticket office and both got a ticket for 87p. 'You want to see dinosaurs first or the ecology department?' I asked John. 'We're going to see both, but it's pretty much a left-right situation.' I told him. John pretended to put up his thinking cap. 'Let's go left.' He said after a few seconds and I smiled. 'Dinosaurs it is!' I said happily.

We spent the entire day in the museum. John first refused to be interested in anything but after a while he couldn't help himself and pop on his glasses, leaning closer to objects. He didn't bother reading the texts but rather listened to me as I read them to him or told him of everything I could tell him about it. 'This is not really my specialty to be honest.' I said as we sat down for a minute, letting our sore feet rest. 'I used to study history, but it was humanity's history, not the Earth's.' I told John but John didn't seem to mind as he shrugged. 'You're fine.' He said and he made me smile.

At closing time we tried to hide behind a statue, but the guard found us and threw us out, not finding it nearly as funny as we did. 'Always those bloody kids..' We could hear him mutter before he slammed the door closed in our face. We heard it lock.

'Where to now?' I asked. 'I stole the whole day, so you can decide.' I told John and he looked down the street. 'Let's just go back to the hotel for now. We still have some food left, right? I'm hungry as hell!' He said and I nodded. 'Yeah, one apple and a bag of sweets..' I told him and he shrugged. 'Better than nothing. We could go out later tonight though..?' He said and I smiled at him. 'I want to go dancing!' I exclaimed and he laughed. We made our way back to the hotel quickly, both quite hungry. At the hotel there stood a surprise waiting for us though.

'Lawrence?' I asked and the boy from two nights before spun around. His face softened when he saw it was me. 'Marit! I was hoping you'd come back. They have never heard from you at the front office.' He said and I laughed, nudging John. 'Yeah, we go by a different name. What was it again, John?' I asked, looking at him.

John looked a bit suspicious of Lawrence, his eyes fixed on him, not a hint of a smile on his face. 'Was it Goobenhausmith?' I asked, elbowing him, trying to get him to smile. 'It was Goofenhausschmirtz.' John said. Still no smile. What was wrong with him? He found it the funniest thing in the world when he suggested we'd register under the name.

'So, what's up?' I asked and I saw Lawrence frown at my way of asking. 'Up?' He asked confused. I shook my head. 'Sorry, my Queen's English and American English sometimes mixes up.' I explained, realizing that this was long before international television. I basically learned English by watching the T.V. which did consist of a lot of American television. However I had always really enjoyed British comedy and as a result watched a lot of BBC as well, which made my accent while speaking turn slightly more British. My English teacher in school loved that because most students spoke with either an American accent or a Dutch accent.

'So, what can I help you with?' I asked again. Lawrence shrugged shyly. 'I was just wondering if I could take you out tonight..?' He asked hesitantly. Before I could answer John had already intervened. 'Sorry lad, we were already going out.' He said and I nodded. 'Yeah, but you could tag along if you want to? You live here, you probably know all the good places to go to!' I said and I noticed John throwing me a glare. Lawrence perked up a bit by that. 'Sure, that sounds wonderful!' He said and I smiled at him. 'Come by around eight then. We'll see you then.' I told him and I pulled a moody John along into the hotel.

I confronted John as we climbed the steep stairs towards our room. 'What was that all about? You were acting like a complete twat!' I hissed to him. He glared at me. 'He's a snooze and thanks to you we have to go out with him..' He retorted and I rolled my eyes, fishing the room key from my pocket, unlocking the door.

'He's not that bad. He's not really exciting perhaps, but he was not judgemental of me coming to London with a fellow I've only known for a week and for me that testifies a very open-minded and kind person.' I told John, throwing down my jacket and going over to my bag, zipping it open. John just huffed, letting himself fall over on his bed.

I pulled out a yellow dress from my bag. 'What do you think about this dress? For tonight I mean?' I asked John and John rolled over to look at me as I held it up against me. 'Ravishing.' He said with a bored look. I looked down. 'You're right. I do get pasty from yellow. I don't know what got into me when I bought it.' I said, throwing it back down.

The following hour was spent with me teaching him blackjack. 'I can't believe you know how to play poker but not blackjack!' I said, hustling the cards. 'I can't believe you know how to play every bloody card game ever invented!' He exclaimed in a girly voice. 'Was that supposed to be an imitation of me?' I asked him but he ignored me.

At half past seven I demanded for John to take a shower. He struggled at first but after I threatened him I'd go with Lawrence and leave him behind, he groaned and got into the bathroom, swearing as he did so.

When he got out we only had a few minutes left. I had decided to put on my yellow dress anyway because it was the only other 'dressy' dress that I had taken with me. John got out wearing a pair of jeans and a white undershirt. He got down on his knees and yanked his leather jacket from underneath the bed. 'How did it even get there?' I asked him.

Downstairs Lawrence was already waiting for us. 'Hi there, Lawrence!' I said kissing him three times on the cheeks. He looked a bit stunned, half a smile on his face. John pulled me along by my shoulders. 'Snap out of it Larry!' He called out and Lawrence shook his head, running after us. 'Sorry, we kiss three times as a greeting in the Netherlands.' I said softly to Lawrence as he walked beside us.

Lawrence took us to a nightclub much like the one we met at. The music was a little jazzier and there was less smoke hanging around and when Lawrence went to get me a drink John leaned down and said; 'Let's chuck the snore. We can get out now.'

I gave him a pointed look. 'John, you are just being intentionally mean.' I tried to say, but before I could finish the sentence John had pulled me along, dragging me with him outside the club. 'John!' I yelled, but I couldn't help but start laughing. 'Oh God, I feel so guilty!' I said as we both ran away from the club.

We rounded a corner and came to a halt in an alley. I panted, leaning against the brick wall, laughing as hard as my exhausted lungs permitted me. 'Perhaps you were right..' I admitted, looking around the corner, stupidly to check if we were being followed. 'He was a _bit_ boring..' I said and John laughed, taking my hand in his and suddenly pulling me against him. 'Well he won't hold us back anymore..' He whispered, leaning down.

I moved out of his way expertly before he could do anything stupid and skipped out of the alley, down the street. 'Come on!' I called over my shoulder. 'We're wasting time!' I said loudly, running off. I heard his footsteps following me but didn't wait for him to catch up. I kept running until I caught sight of a Tube station.

The entrance was in the side of a big 19th century building and it had the underground logo above the entrance in stained glass. I quickly ran in and hid behind the door. John ran past me, coming to a halt in the hall, looking around for me. It wasn't really busy, it was almost nine already, but there were still people who gave John confused glances as they walked past him in and out of the station.

When his back was turned to me I began running again and pushed past him, towards the escalators that went down. I skidded to a halt as I looked down. John came to stand next to me, pulling my waist, but I pushed him off. 'The escalators are made of wood..' I said, observing them. John made another attempt for my waist but I sidestepped him, sitting on my knees and touching the wooden steps of the escalators.

'What's the big deal?' John asked annoyed. I gave the step one last tap and then got back on my feet. 'Nothing.' I said. John frowned at me in confusion. I looked around, trying to find something to distract him. 'Hey, you know what I've wanted to do since I got to England?' I said and John shook his head. 'Tell me, love..' He said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. 'Buy new shoes.' I said and by his disappointed face I guessed that wasn't what he wanted to hear. I pointed at my feet. 'These are not exactly appropriate shoes, are they?' I said and John shrugged, already bored with the subject. 'You act like a boy and you dress like a boy.' He said and he turned around, walking out.

'Excuse me?' I called after him, trying to catch up to him. 'I don't act like a boy!' I told him. John glanced at me irritated. 'Of course you do. Constantly.' He said. 'When did I act like a boy?' I asked him indignantly. John looked a bit surprised by my anger, like he had said something completely legitimate.

'You hit me all the time. And you don't want to talk about your feelings and rubbish like that, stuff birds are always so fond of.' John said, making me frown. What was wrong with that? I didn't have the most pleasant youth and preferred not to talk about it, especially because it was forever locked away from me because of a bleeding malfunctioning time machine. To be fair, I hadn't actually told him that and I wasn't planning on it either. And I didn't _hit_ him all the time. I gave people the occasional playful elbow in the ribs.

'Inviting me to come to London with you, while you've met me about four days earlier.' John continued and I bit my lip. 'Or-' John corrected himself with a thoughtful look '-we could call you a slag, but you don't put out, so that brings us back to a boy.' He said and although not being called a slag should make me happy, it only angered me more.

'Just because I don't put out for you, I'm considered a _boy_?' I hissed at him. John stopped walking and laughed. 'Well, you're not actually a boy, obviously.' He said, looking me up and down and I felt my face heat up. I groaned in annoyance and walked on. I then realized we were already in front of the hotel and I walked inside instead.

'Aw, come on love!' John called out as he walked in after me. 'Don't be mad about it!' He said. Mrs Dwelling looked at us sympathetically and it annoyed me even further to think that she thought we were married.

As we climbed the stairs John kept making only half felt attempts at soothing me. 'Marit, I don't know why you're acting like this about it, if anything, it was a compliment!' He yelled through the bathroom door as I changed into my pyjamas and brushed my teeth.

I banged the door open, almost banging him in the head and put my clothes in my bag, along with my toothbrush. I laid down on my bed, letting him have the duvet, not feeling up to fighting about that as well. John didn't seem like he was taking me seriously though. He only laughed and I heard him sit down on his own bed as I glared at the opposite wall.

'Marit, it's our last night here, it was your idea to come in the first place, and then you're being like this?' He asked me and I didn't say anything. To be honest, I had forgotten it was our last night. The next day we would take the train back because the day after he and the boys would leave for Hamburg. What would I do then? Would I take his and Stu's flat?

I shook the thoughts off me when I heard John stand up. Suddenly he surprised me as he pulled my shoulder and pushed me on my back. He climbed on top of me and I let out a small shriek in shock, momentarily forgetting my anger. I quickly remembered it again though, as he stroked the hair out of my face.

'John, please just don't! Get off!' I yelled, angry. 'I don't want this!' I said. John didn't get off, grinning at me, hanging over me and leaning down. 'Are you sure?' He asked, his breath on my lips. My face reddened. 'I'm angry at you and I told you to stop..' I murmured, my hands still on his chest, but no longer pushing. 'And yet you're here. I have not a grain of respect left for you.' I told him.

He flashed me a grin. 'It's not your respect I want.' He whispered and he crossed the two centimetres that were still left between us and he kissed me. I feel ashamed to say that I responded immediately. I yanked at his collar and he gripped my hair and it hurt, but in the good way. I started to fumble at the buttons of his shirt and his hands moved from my hair to my body, roaming up and down, pulling my legs around his waist.

I rolled him over, so I was on top and I ripped the last button off his shirt. I started biting at his neck, my fingernails scraping at his bare chest. His hands were beneath my shirt, sliding up my back and he started to unclasp my bra. Then I sat up.

I pulled down my shirt and got off him. I looked at John. His hair was dishevelled and his face was incredibly confused. He got up to his elbows, his open shirt falling off his shoulder. I hugged my knees.

'What the hell?' He said. 'Get back here!' He said, taking my hand and trying to pull me back onto him. I yanked my hand loose. 'No.' I said, staring at nothing. 'I don't want to.' John rolled on his side, leaning his cheek on his palm. 'That's what you said just a minute ago.' He answered. 'And you see how that turned out.' He smiled cheekily.

I frowned at him sideways. 'Get your head out of your arse.' I said. 'I'm going to say this only once, so you have to listen well, do you understand?' I said, turning to him completely and sitting on my knees. Now John frowned as well, sitting up straight and crossing his legs.

'When I say "no", I actually do mean "no".' I said. He rolled his eyes and I just saw he was about to retort, but I shushed him before he could. 'I know I haven't been going about it very well, but I do not want this kind of a relationship with you.' I told him and John frowned at me in confusion. 'You didn't bloody handle it well, no!' he said, getting up from the bed and walking over to the window, buttoning his shirt back up.

'I'm really sorry though. It might sound a bit rubbish, but I would really like to be friends.' I said and John groaned. 'Ah piss off, will you? Never thought I'd be getting the I'd-Like-To-Be-Friends-speech!' He said, whipping out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a big puff and then turned back to me. 'I'm not stupid, Marit. We had something.' He said and I shook my head.

'You know what John, I think we've been mistaking that something for something else.' I said to him as John opened the window, blowing the smoke out the window. 'And even if we didn't. I just came to this country a week ago and you're leaving the day after tomorrow. We must be stupid if we'd start something like this.' I said.

John's back was facing me, as he was hanging out the window, so I couldn't see his face. Although most of the smoke was caught by the wind outside, some of it trailed back in and tickled my nostrils. I made a face. 'Look John, I really like you. I liked you from the moment we met and we seem to get along great, but sometimes that doesn't mean you should start a relationship with someone.' I said and John turned around a little. 'Who says anything about a relationship?' He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. I was glad to see him in a better mood already.

I laughed. 'And what then, John? It's really not easy being friends after. Would you and Stu still be friends if you jumped into bed with him?' I asked and he made a face of pure disgust. 'Why would you even say that!?' He yelled, flinging the stump of the cigarette out the window, slamming it shut again. I shrugged, giggling. 'I'm just saying that maybe it's indeed better if you keep considering me a boy.' I said and after a moment of pondering John nodded.

'Yeah, okay.' He said. 'I can do that. You're just a guy.' He added. I nodded at him in encouragement. 'Just a guy.' I confirmed. He narrowed his eyes at me, cocking his head a bit, his eyes travelling down my body. 'Just a guy.' He repeated. I snapped my fingers and he looked back up at me. 'Let's ignore you just practically mentally sexually harassing me and make plans for tomorrow. What train shall we take?' I asked him.

John went to lay down on his own bed. 'The last one. I'm not leaving London any earlier than we have to.' He said. I put my own head on my pillow, looking at him sideways. 'The last train? What if we miss it?' I asked. He turned around, so he could look at me as well. 'Why would we miss it?' He asked me back and I shrugged. 'The last train it is then.' He said.

We both rolled onto our backs and stared at the ceiling. I felt myself slowly growing tired, my eyelids drooping shut. 'Hey, Marit? Are you still awake?' I heard John whisper. 'Mmmh?' I answered. 'You are one of the prettiest guys I have ever had the pleasure to meet.' John said, his voice about two octaves higher in an attempt on being funny. Unfortunately I thought it was funny and had to laugh. 'Thanks, you pansy.' I said.

I turned around and faced the wall and as the minutes went by I heard John's breath behind me become a stable snore. And then I smiled as I realized I had been exactly right. John and I had hit it off the moment we met, but we had been mistaking those feelings for romantic ones. Or I had at least. John probably only wanted to get into my skirt. I didn't normally felt so much about one person and was confused that I felt so strongly about John.

Growing up I had trouble making friends because I didn't want to bring them home to my parents. As a kid I thought it was my own fault that my parents didn't love me and treated me as cold and awkward as they did. I was ashamed of myself.

When I reached my teens and started acting out of control, I was really intend on making up for past years, but instead I got into it with a bad crowd. I had lots of what you might call boyfriends, but lasted a few weeks at most.

Through all my life it was only my Uncle David that concerned himself for me and I only started appreciating it in the last couple of years. I stopped visiting the night clubs in which I knew I'd run into my old "friends" and I started going back to school.

But now I was in Liverpool. And in 1960 no less. And John Lennon had tried to get it on with me, which is quite flattering to think about. But the John on the bed next to mine wasn't John Lennon the _icon_ yet. He was just John and I felt like we understood each other in a way that you not often understand someone. He understood parental neglect and difficulty in behaving appropriately to the people around you.

I sighed satisfied. I felt warm and suddenly slightly less worried about what the future might bring me. I had a great friend to help me.

* * *

HA! You thought she was going to be with John, didn't you! Well, sorry to all John fangirls around here, but they're just going to be good friends. I'm sure you can guess who it's going to be then. There's an educated guess to be made here (:

Tell me what you think! Especially by her background! I hope it wasn't overdone or anything.

GUYS! I GAVE YOU LIKE THE LONGEST CHAPTER IN HISTORY AND GAVE YOU A STEAMY KISSING SCENE AS A BONUS: REVIEW!

PLEASE!

JUST!

REVIEW!

Oh by the way! I'm actually in real life really good at poker! When I was a kid I always wanted to play professional, but my mum wouldn't allow it. However, I always play in Dutch so if I don't get all of the English terms right, just ignore it. I'm too lazy to fix it anyway (:

**_REVIEW!_**


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